


Undead and unstoppable

by Dr_wpjt



Series: The Trish & Nikki Saga [4]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Civilian love interest, Established Relationship, F/F, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Mass Effect 2, Shepard hates Cerberus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_wpjt/pseuds/Dr_wpjt
Summary: Commander Nicola Shepard wakes to find the galaxy changed. Weapons now use disposable heatsinks, human colonists are vanishing without trace and Cerberus are now allegedly the good guys?Yeah right, she may have died but she's still not forgotten Akuze. She's all for burying the hatchet... in the Illusive Man's skull!Still, the galaxy needs saving and she's got experience in that. With Trish by her side she can achieve anythi- wait, what? Trish thinks she's been dead for two years? Well, this is gonna suck.The Trish and Nikki saga reaches ME2.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Original Female Character
Series: The Trish & Nikki Saga [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845190
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Lazarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, little bit later than I said I'd post this, I'll give you a couple chapters at once to make up for it. Hopefully I'll be posting weekly, but I haven't finished writing ME2 so at some point I will run out of prewritten chapters and updates will slow.

The experience was a lot like coming round after being put under anesthetic for surgery, and by that Shepard didn't mean the carefully constructed facade of calm and making everybody laugh by completing the sentence she'd been halfway through speaking several hours earlier. 

There was definitely that same sense of disorientation however,  **_and_ ** the bit immediately before where your actions and emotions carry directly on from what was happening before you lost consciousness.

Except before she lost consciousness she had been fighting a losing battle against a sense of panic, and engaged in an even more desperate struggle over the ability to breath. So, that was how she returned to the world, fighting. 

Her panic only grew when she felt something in her throat and heard indistinct voices, the fact that she was no longer in the great empty void above Alchera only really sinking in when she caught sight of her unarmoured arm, an unknown woman catching hold of it before she could reach up and tear out what she was slowly coming to realise must be a ventilator machine.

"Shepard, don't try to move. Just lie still, try to stay calm." 

Now that she was aware, she tried taking in more details of her surroundings. The people present weren't wearing Alliance medical uniforms so she assumed she must be in some kind of private facility. That could get expensive quickly, she hoped her wife wasn't footing the bill. Free healthcare was supposed to be one of the perks of being Alliance military after all. 

Her attention was caught by the logo on their clothes, she was sure there was something familiar about it.

"Brain activity is off the charts." A male voice declared. 

_ That's because I'm trying to think! Now shush moron, you're distracting me. _

"Stats pushing into the red zone, it's not working!" 

_ What? Err, that doesn't sound good. Hey lady, can I start panicking again? _

"Another dose. Now!"

_ Another dose of what?  _ **_No!_ ** _ No sedative, I don't want any more seda- _

...

"Wake up Commander."

_ -tive... Damn it _ .

"Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now." 

_ Mmm, no. Five more minutes! _

"I need you to get moving." 

_ Seriously, your bedside manner sucks, I want Chakwas back. Shit, the Normandy! _

Nikki opened her eyes suddenly, blinking at the light bouncing off clean white walls and raising a hand to her throbbing jaw. 

_ Please tell me Chakwas got out ok? What about everyone else? Did I manage to save Joker? What abo- _

"Shepard! This facility is under attack." 

_ What!? Why didn't you say so? _ All other thoughts fell to the wayside as the mystery voice's words finally penetrated and Nikki sat up, clutching at her ribs with a gasp as they protested the movement. 

Weapons fire was visible through the room's windows as she twisted to the side to allow her body to fall off the bed, grunting when her legs didn't hold her weight quite as well as she'd been hoping, and her hands rushed out to the recently vacated cot for support. 

_ How long was I out? _

"There's a pistol and armour in a locker on the other side of the room." 

_ Where? Oh there. Fu- Argh... Ok, try again, one foot in front of the other. And left, and right, and left and... balls... there's no more bed to lean on. This is going to hurt. _

"Hurry!"

"Oh sure, hurry she says." Nikki grumbled to herself as she grit her teeth against the pain. "Me and you are going to have a falling out at this rate." 

Fortunately if there was one thing N7s were good at, it was keeping going through pain. 

She finally made it to the locker, opening it to find the familiar sight of a suit of Kassa Fabrication's light colossus armour that she quickly put on, and a less familiar pistol that she examined closely. 

Something about the weapon didn't seem quite right.

"It needs a thermal clip." The voice that she was 98% certain was coming from the loud speakers and not inside her head helpfully offered.

"Thermal clip?"  _ Oh no. Please no _ . 

The idea of disposable heat sinks had just started being thrown around when she last left Arcturus and she had been vehemently opposed to the plan. 

Sure, she understood where the proponents were coming from, nobody knew when the reapers would make their next move and the turians were the only species with compulsory military service. It would be much easier to train people to shoot guns on short notice if they could simply replace the thermal clip rather than having to remember to let the weapon cooldown during combat. 

However, as someone for whom the different weapons' optimum firing and cooldown patterns were second nature, she had had concerns about the inevitable supply problems that were bound to arise in a prolonged campaign. 

Her first experience with a prototype was not changing her mind on the subject.

"There aren't any in the med bay but you can get one from-" Little Miss Bossy continued to instruct her and it wasn't long before she had both a thermal clip and something to shoot at. 

A frustrated growl tore from her throat as her first two shots went wide, unsure if it was the pistol or her prolonged inactivity that was at fault. Fortunately whatever the issue was she was able to compensate for it, her accuracy not quite up to usual standards but good enough to destroy the mechs that were trying to kill her.

...

"Something tells me this is  **_not_ ** an Alliance approved 'back to work' physiotherapy training session." Shepard groused as she ran as fast as she could between the flames. 

_ Honestly, who thought using a grenade launcher that close to pipes of flammable gas was a good idea? Especially when they were between me and the way out. _

Luckily the only burn she felt was from muscle fatigue and she was used to ignoring that. Although, normally it took a lot longer to get to this level of exhaustion. Not a mere twenty minutes of combat. The voice on the comm cut out and she was left to navigate the hallways alone. 

The further she travelled the more she came to realise that she wasn't in fact in a private hospital like she first thought, but rather some kind of science facility. 

The glimpses of the experimental project she caught sight of on various monitors as she cleared each room left her feeling immensely uneasy, and was far more unsettling than the dead bodies that littered the corridors. Their uniforms displaying the same logo that was emblazoned on the windows and doors.

Nikki couldn't help the gnawing feeling that she ought to recognise the emblem, but she was a bit preoccupied with getting out alive. So much so that, when she finally found a survivor who didn't die two seconds after she clapped eyes on them, the only question she could think to ask was: "Which way to the shuttle pad?"

...

_ Cerberus. I'm in a Cerberus lab. How the hell did I not realise?  _

_ And I woke up here, what kind of sick crap could they have done? Two years!  _

_ 'The Alliance declared you dead, Cerberus spent a fortune to bring you back'. _ The biotic's words rang in Shepard's ears. 

She tried to ignore the roiling turmoil inside her head. To disregard the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. To just focus on surviving, making it off this station in one piece, but it was hard when she'd just been sucker punched with so much insane information all in a row.

_ 'You were just meat and tubes'.  _

_ Two years. Cerberus.  _

_ 'Anyone else would have stuck you in a coffin'.  _

**_TWO_** **_YEARS!_**

Strangely enough, she made sure her co-survivors took point after that little bombshell. No way was she having armed Cerberus personnel to her rear. She wanted the bastards where she could see them. 

She still remembered the disturbing allegations Toombsey had made about the organisation a handful of weeks back. 

Except apparently it wasn't. 

A handful of weeks that is. It was two years.

One moment the Normandy had been exploding in front of her as she desperately searched for the source of her suit breach. The next, she had been waking up here. 

It had been instantaneous, no different from any other time she'd woken up without warning in the med bay. Well, except for the hostile mechs of course. That was certainly a first.

As if summoned by her thoughts, more of the walking scrap metal appeared, and she was forced to focus on the here and now. No more time for introspection until their little group (plus one Miranda and minus one Wilson) was safely sequestered away on the evacuation shuttle.

Afterwards there was plenty of time for reminiscing. In fact, Miranda insisted upon it. 

'Making sure the memories were all there' apparently.

The Cerberus operative also caught her up on a few of the changes since Shepard last roamed the conscious plane. 

Such as the fact that the pistol casually balanced on her knee like a safety blanket was not, in actual fact as she believed, a prototype weapon, but rather a mass produced, standard issue sidearm. It seemed a lot had changed in two years.

There was that number again. 

Maybe it shouldn't be so hard to accept, but it was easier than focusing on the other can of worms Cerberus had opened. The whole 'death and rebirth' topic. Point was, it couldn't have been two years. She'd had plans damn it! 

She'd missed her 30th birthday. 

And her wedding anniversary. 

**Twice!**

_ Oh fuck, Trish! _ She could only begin to imagine the heartache her wife must have suffered through.

Nikki kept her back to the wall for the duration of the shuttle ride, gaze never leaving the two Cerberus operatives sat opposite her as she waited for the inevitable double cross.

Inside she was a mess. Struggling to come to terms with her new reality. Questioning whether what they told her was even the truth. 

Outside however, she remained stoic, refusing to let them see her distress. Not allowing any sign of weakness to slip through in front of her historical enemies. 

That simply wouldn't do.


	2. Freedom's Progress

"Illusive Man." Nikki wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting when she was informed she'd have a chance to talk to the mysterious leader of the shadowy terrorist organization known as Cerberus. It certainly wasn't this however. "I thought we'd be meeting face to face."

"A necessary precaution. Not unusual for people who know what you and I know." The suave bastard answered, taking a sip from his glass.

"Oh, and what would that be? The fact Cerberus lured my squad into a thresher nest on Akuze? That you ran inhumane tests on the only other survivor? Or how about how you killed Admiral Kahoku for getting too close?" 

It probably wasn't wise to mouth off in front of him like this, but the way Shepard saw it they'd spent a fortune bringing her back to life, it would be stupid and financially wasteful for them to kill her now.

Besides, she wanted to know what happened when she pushed his buttons. More importantly, she wanted to make sure she  **_could_ ** speak out against him. She'd watched more than enough sci-fi horror vids to be worried about her autonomy right now.

"I was referring to the reapers." He replied unperturbed. "While you've been sleeping, entire colonies have been disappearing. Humanity is up against the greatest threat in our brief existence and I need you to put your personal feelings aside. Trust me when I say, we are on the same side in this." 

Shepard scoffed at that, she just couldn't help herself.

"Trust you? Trust has to be earned. Why don't we start with what the hell have you done to me?" She gestured to her face, the faint red glow of cybernetics that shone through the thin cracks spiderwebbing across her skin. 

Apparently she hadn't been finished when they woke her up. Whatever  **_that_ ** meant! 

To her surprise, the Illusive Man tilted his head in acquiescence.

"A reasonable request. Very well, I will instruct Miranda to compile the relevant reports from Project Lazarus onto a datapad for you. You can read up on it at your leisure." 

_ Oh, well... that was easier than I was expecting. _

"Is there anything else?"

She felt a little off balance at how easily he capitulated to her demands and ended up just standing there, listening with only the occasional interruption for clarification as he briefed her on the state of the galaxy. She was unable to remain silent when he revealed the reason for bringing her back though.

"I didn't kill Sovereign, the fleets did." She protested.  _ Forget the army, he could have built multiple ships for the amount of money it cost to resurrect me. _

"Perhaps, but it wouldn't have been possible without you, and you did stop Saren."

"Taking down Saren was a team effort, I didn't do it alone."

"We can get you a new team. In fact I've already been compiling a list of soldiers, scientists and mercenaries. You'll get dossiers on the best of them."

"What's wrong with my old team? I liked them." The 'unlike you' was silent but most definitely implied.

"Nothing's wrong with them." The Illusive Man started in an attempt to mollify her. "But that was two years ago Commander, most of them have moved on." 

She raised an incredulous eyebrow, barely restraining herself from releasing a disbelieving snort.

"Let me get this straight. You spent a fortune bringing me back because of 'what I represent'. You plan to use me as a symbol to unite people against the reapers, and yet... You don't think I can convince my old squad to return and help me? I'm willing to bet that Garrus Vakarian would rejoin my team in a heartbeat, and that's just for starters."

"Perhaps. Unfortunately the turian disappeared a few months after you were declared dead. Even we haven't been able to locate him." The Illusive Prick dismissed quickly. 

_Did you even try to find him?_ Shepard wondered _. And if so, why?_

"What about Urdnot Wrex?'

"He returned to Tuchunka, he hasn't gone off world in over a year. He's trying to unite the krogan clans." 

_ Ok, that's... actually kind of important. Much as I'd like to have the big guy by my side, we'll need a united krogan if we're to have any hope of defeating the reapers, and I doubt anyone else would even bother trying. Let alone have any chance of success. _

"Tali'Zorah?"

"Her loyalty to the flotilla is absolute, you might as well ask for Ashley Williams to turn her back on the Alliance." 

Shepard grimaced at that. Williams' blood was as red as any human's, but she bled Alliance blue.

"What abo-" 

TIM didn't even let her finish before answering this time.

"Kaidan Alenko's still with the Alliance, promoted I believe, his file is surprisingly well classified. As for the N4 that joined your team after the Battle of the Citadel, Gregovich? I'm sorry to tell you he was killed in action, not long after passing the N5 course."

_ You don't  _ **_sound_ ** _ sorry. _ Nikki opined in the privacy of her own head. She'd barely known 'Tals2' for a couple of months but it still wasn't particularly pleasant news, even if dying was something of an occupational hazard. 

_ I'm living proof of that! _ She mentally chortled at her own dark joke. 

It wasn't that funny. 

In the end she elected to remain stoic, postponing emotions until she could work out what she was supposed to be feeling. For now she had a conversation to focus on.

"And of course, Liara is elbows deep in some prothean dig site." Nicola wrapped up the list of her former teammates.

"Actually she's on Illium." The Illusive Man corrected. "My sources say she's working for the shadow broker, if so she can't be trusted."

"Shadow Broker? Liara?" The doubt was clear in Shepard's voice.

"That's what the rumours suggest, and so far the evidence seems to back it up. She is certainly operating as some kind of information broker on Illium. That much is irrefutable." 

So much had changed in just two years, Shepard reflected. Liara had had such passion for archaeology, what could possibly have made her turn away from it? Especially when the prospect of a reaper invasion made research of the past so important. 

'Know your enemy' was a principal tenet of warfare, and the protheans were one of the few sources of that knowledge. The asari should have been helping dig that information back up.

"Ok, I get it. They're not available." Nikki momentarily closed her eyes, pressing the heel of her hand into her eyelid with a sigh. "So... Who do you have in mind?"

The Illusive Man hesitated, seeming to show traces of uncertainty for the first time in their conversation.

"I'm surprised you haven't inquired about Trish yet." 

Shepard's heart rate sped up at that. How dare that devil speak the name of her personal goddess.

"If you've done anything-" She started to growl, only to be casually waved away.

"We haven't. We don't harm innocents, what do you take me for?" 

_ The leader of a terrorist organization, giver of the go-ahead into unethical science experiments, the personification of evil, take your pick. _

"I merely considered it strange that you inquired over your crew but not your wife."

"We were discussing potential squad members, Trish isn't a soldier." Nikki defended herself, but now the bastard had planted the seed and the constant quiet drone of curiosity that had been at the bottom of her subconsciousness ever since she woke rose in volume to a roaring raging torrent of 'need to know now' and she couldn't help asking: "Well, go on then. I suspect you know if you brought it up, how is she?"

"Alive and well. Still living in the same house. Although, the last I heard she was with one..." He paused, activating his omni-tool to access a file. "Melissa Deltane." 

Nikki felt her heart clench at the photo. They certainly looked together. 

She forced her fists loose behind her back, thankful she'd automatically assumed her old military posture and not given away how much that information hurt to the man in front of her.

_ It's been  _ **_two_ ** _ years. The vow was 'til death do us part', not 'forever together or forever alone'. You died, she deserves to be happy. _

"Is she... are they happy?" She hated how her voice caught, betraying her in front of her enemy, and hardened her gaze to make up for it.

"Well, I can't exactly tell you her feelings, it's not like we have her under constant surveillance. Admiral Hackett keeps a close eye on his niece and we didn't want him thinking we had an interest in her. Still, from what we can tell, she seems to be." 

It was a reasonable enough answer and Nikki nodded, even as her world fell apart inside. Just last week she had been happily married to the love of her life, now her partner was a widow with two years experience.

She wouldn't interfere though. 

Wouldn't get in the way of Trish's happiness. 

She loved her too much for that and she'd hurt her enough.

Better that she stayed dead. 

Let's be honest, it was probably only a matter of time before she returned to that state anyway. 

She pulled herself together, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, but she couldn't stop the glib remark that left her mouth:

"I'm only surprised she didn't get her brown eyed asari."

...

Nikki focused her attention on the datapad in her hands, refusing to let her mind dwell on all the changes of the new galaxy she'd woken up to. 

As promised, Miranda had given her a datapad on Project Lazarus but this wasn't it. She'd quickly scrolled through that one to make sure it contained the information she wanted, nearly threw up at one of the pictures, and quickly put it to one side so she could study it later in private. 

It wasn't good form for a commander to vomit in front of their troops and, like it or not, (most definitely not) the two Cerberus operatives sat opposite her in the shuttle were her squad for the foreseeable future.

Although, apparently, the transport at least was only temporary. Cerberus had been building a new ship specially for her, but the early awakening meant it wasn't quite finished yet. They assured her it would be ready by the end of the week.

Of course, if she hadn't woken up early, then she wouldn't be able to investigate the most recent colony to be hit. TIM had received the news about Freedom's Progress going dark while they'd been talking and instructed her to go take a look.

It was fortunate that they were only one relay jump away.

...

It took a mere five minutes after landing for Shepard to be convinced that whatever was going on at these colonies, it definitely wasn't slavers. 

Everything was too clean. There was no sign of struggle. No fires or broken furniture. There wasn't even any blood.

No, it was as if the entire human population had just been beamed up, sci-fi style, in the middle of whatever they were doing. Which, in many houses, appeared to be eating dinner.

It was eerie.

Her senses were on high alert as the squad methodically swept the buildings for clues and/or signs of life. Although, the longer she spent here, the less hope she had for finding the latter. 

Once again she had Taylor on point, Lawson in the middle so that neither of them could shoot her in the back. She was well aware that she had newly developed trust issues, but how could she not when they were so proudly wearing the Cerberus logo?

Then again, even if she'd been with her own squad she doubted there would be any of the usual banter. The silence was the kind that you felt you had to honour, to try and make as little noise as possible in response, and not just for stealth reasons. 

It was like at a library or a place of worship. Of course, Trish had considered those two to be the same thing. The brief internal smile quickly faded as she pushed the thought of her wife away.

Now wasn't the time. She had to focus. 

A fact that was proven a moment later when she caught a flicker of movement out the corner of her eye. She turned to cover it and found herself looking at the first splash of colour she'd seen on this seemingly dreary planet.

"What about pets?" She asked across comms and Lawson turned slightly, a look of confusion on her allegedly perfect face. 

Nikki gestured at the fish tank that had caught her attention before moving on with both the conversation and her search. 

"At the other colonies I mean. You said all the humans vanished, what about other life forms?" She wondered why she hadn't thought about it before. A human settlement this size was bound to have animals. Whether it just be scavenging pyjaks or domesticated hamsters and dogs. 

An image of Judy flashed through her mind that she forcefully dismissed, debating as she did so whether they'd messed up bringing her back. She was sure she wasn't this easily distracted on missions before she die-... well...  **_before_ ** .

"-gone feral or found starving in their cages." Taylor answered her question, bringing her mind tumbling back to the present via a slight detour of the malnourished ball of fluff that Judy had been when she first found the puppy on a mission all those years ago. 

That information was important somehow. 

No, not Jude. The animals at the colonies. 

Any further thinking was caught short as they passed through a gate and immediately came under fire. She darted into cover before trying to identify and neutralise the threat. 

_ Great, mechs again. _

"This is new, the security mechs weren't active on any of the other colonies." Miranda informed them. 

_ Of course it's different, I'm here now. The galaxy never misses an opportunity to shoot at me. _

Despite the mechanical nature of their foes, it was her team that moved like clockwork, dispatching the hostiles with ease. Even Shepard couldn't dismiss the efficiency of the Cerberus operatives as they worked together in seamless synergy. Jacob's pull and Miranda's warp combining in devastating explosions.

"Someone had to have reprogrammed them to attack, we're not alone out here." Someone stated the obvious once they were clear. Although clear was a relative term, more mechs appearing as they fought their way through new parts of the colony.

"Picking up life signs." Taylor quietly murmured over comms as they approached one of the buildings.

"Don't open fire unless fired upon. Remember we're here for answers not corpses." Nikki reminded them as they stacked up on the door. "Let me do the talking."

"Stop right there!" 

Whatever the N7 was expecting on the other side of the door, it wasn't a room full of quarian marines. Their leader issuing the bold demand as they raised their weapons at her. 

That was nothing compared to what happened next however, an unarmed (or at least nothing in their hands which she knew wasn't the same thing) quarian pushing herself between the two groups. A familiar voice declaring exasperatedly:

"Prazza, you said you'd let me handle this." 

_ No! It couldn't be? _

"Tali?" 

Of all the quarians and all the planets in the galaxy, the odds against running into each other like this had to be astronomical, but there was no mistaking the pattern of the purple swirl on her cowl.

"Wait! Shepard?" 

The human felt her mouth widen into the first genuine smile she'd had since she woke up, as she finally clapped eyes on a friendly face. Well... figuratively speaking.

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus operatives." Prazza interrupted their reunion. 

_ Don't blame you on that one _ . Nikki thought as Tali argued with the hotheaded quarian.  _ Now if you could just aim your rifle at the Cerberus operatives instead of  _ **_me_ ** _ , we'll get along just fine _ . 

Eventually Tali got her way and turned back to face the commander.

"Shepard, is that- How... you're alive?" 

Her former teammate seemed to struggle with the concept, understandable enough when Nikki was still getting used to the idea herself.

"Think so. I'm certainly managing the whole walking, talking, breathing business. Did you ever get a chance to eat that cupcake from my wedding? I hope it was alright? The bakery didn't seem to think graxen was an acceptable cake flavouring, but I remembered you saying they were your favourite snack and I thought-... I probably should have listened to them and gone with yannel berries after all." 

She only ceased her rambling when the youngster raised a three fingered hand to halt her. 

"It was nice, thank you. Certainly different, but I liked it." The faceplate hid the quarian's smile but it was still audible in her voice.

"Good, I kept meaning to send a message and ask, but I never got round to it..." She trailed off again, giving Prazza another chance to intrude.

"I'm sure this is fascinating, but why is your old commander working for Cerberus?"

"I don't know, maybe we should ask." For the first time uncertainty coloured the quarian's voice, instead of merely shock and disbelief.

"Believe me, they wouldn't have been my first choice." Nikki assured her with a touch of bitterness creeping in. "But Cerberus spent two years and a ton of credits rebuilding me, now they want me to investigate attacks on human colonies. Figured the least I can do is take a look."

"Likely story!" Prazza protested. For some reason he was the only quarian other than Tali with anything to say. Or maybe the rest of them just had better discipline. "No organization would commit so many resources to bring back one soldier."

"You haven't seen Shepard in action." Tali jumped immediately to her defense, bringing another smile to the woman in question's face. "Trust me, it was money well spent."

"I certainly hope so." 

Shepard decided to ignore the quiet murmur from the three-headed bitch behind her as she and Tali discussed mission objectives. Hashing out a plan and temporary alliance between their two forces.

VERY temporary as it turned out.

At least the groups didn't open fire on each other, but the hunt for the quarian pilgrim, Veetor, soon turned into a race instead of the proposed co-operative endeavour. 

A race that ended with the flotilla's marines running straight into a heavy YMIR mech. With shields, armour, a mass accelerator machine gun and a frigging rocket launcher, the result was something of a massacre. 

As soon as Tali managed to hack open the gate that would let her into the loading docks, Nikki was charging through as fast as her Lazarus upgraded legs could carry her. Shotgun pumping at the synthetic monstrosity before her in the hope of distracting it from finishing off the handful of surviving quarians.

"Anybody who's still breathing hit that thing with overloads. Lawson, Taylor, as soon as its shields are down I want one of your little biotic combo boom things." Shepard ordered before having to rapidly duck into cover to avoid a missile. 

Her plan to get its attention certainly seemed to have worked and she spent the rest of the battle dancing out the way of rockets. Firing her own, more accurate, retaliatory bursts and throwing out seemingly random orders that nevertheless turned out to be highly effective.

...

Veetor, when they finally reached him, was clearly traumatised by what he'd experienced. However, despite his mental break, he'd been able to acquire useful footage and data recordings from the attack. 

Recordings Miranda wanted to take back to the Illusive Man, along with the quarian himself.

"What?! Veetor is injured. He needs treatment not an interrogation!" Tali chose that moment to rejoin them after taking care of her squad's wounded, her words triggering another argument with the humans. 

Considering Nikki didn't even want to go back to Cerberus herself, she certainly wasn't about to force anyone else into their clutches, but then she had a crazy, crazy idea.

"Lawson, Taylor, give us a moment, go wait outside."

"But Commander-" Miranda protested but Shepard quickly cut her off.

"Your presence is affecting her ability to think logically. Let me talk her round, I'll get us Veetor." 

It looked like the Cerberus agent would continue arguing, but then they turned and marched out, leaving the commander with a furious Tali.

"Damn it Shepard, I trusted you!"

"We need that information Tali." Nikki responded coldly but her hands told their own story, silently gesturing for her former crew member to run surveillance jamming programs. As soon as she was convinced they wouldn't be overheard her whole tone changed. 

"Don't worry, Veetor goes with you Tali. Just copy the recordings to a datapad for me, they can have that instead."

"Sure, but why didn't you just tell them that in the first place?"

"Because I want to ask you for a favour without them hearing."

"Of course, anything you need Shepard." She agreed without hesitation.

"You and your people have a way off this colony right?" The commander checked first, unconsciously holding her breath until Tali nodded. "Take me with you?"


	3. A change of plan

Admiral Anderson normally had a tight grip on his emotions. He was the very definition of military stoicism. Then again, it wasn't hiding his emotions that was the problem right now, it was even knowing what to feel. 

_ How could this even be possible? _ He reread the message again.

[Admiral Anderson,

I don't know if you remember me, but I was on Commander Shepard's crew during the hunt for Saren. I don't quite know how to tell you this but she's back. Commander Shepard's alive. I found her on your colony of Freedom's Progress or, more accurately, she found me.

I should probably reassure you that the quarian people had nothing to do with the tragedy on Freedom's Progress or your other colonies. We have only recently heard about the disappearances and you have my condolences. 

We were there to retrieve one of our pilgrims who had activated a distress call, he was the only survivor but he managed to record some footage from the attack that the commander believes you may find interesting.

Ah yes, back to Commander Shepard. 

My head warns me to be wary, that it could be some kind of trick, that it can't be her, but my heart tells me that it is. She looks like Shepard, she sounds like Shepard, she fights like Shepard (the security mechs had been reprogrammed to attack anything that moved). She even knows things that I told the commander in confidence. Things that I've told no other living person and that I am certain she would not have shared with anyone else.

She asked me to contact you and see if it's possible to arrange a meeting. She told me to tell you "through the gates of hell". She said you'd know what it means and she'll happily give the rest of it to you in person. 

My ship will arrive in the Widow system in five days. If you would rather meet in Alliance space and not the citadel then that can be arranged but will take us longer to get there. I assure you this isn't a prank and I hope to hear from you soon.

May the stars guide you,

Tali'Zorah vas Neema]

The words hadn't changed in the eight times he'd read the email, but his brain was still struggling to accept what it said. 

Shepard was  **_dead_ ** . 

Multiple eyewitnesses had seen her get spaced when the SSV Normandy was attacked and destroyed in the Amada system two years ago. The testimony Flight Lieutenant Moreau had given at the inquest had left no doubt about the outcome. Joker had seen the whole thing and continued to see it regularly in his nightmares.

Moreau had been given compulsory counseling sessions and taken off the roster for active duty combat pilots. It had taken a lot of Anderson's influence to prevent him being grounded altogether. He knew how much flying meant to the lieutenant and how crushed he'd be without it. 

He doubted shuttle runs were the same but had hoped it was at least better than nothing. Then, three months ago, Joker had gone AWOL. He wasn't just absent without leave but also without trace. It was like he had simply vanished from civilised space. 

The admiral still remembered the man's chilling account of the commander's final moments.

_ But we never found a body _ . The traitorous thought passed through his mind. 

_ We didn't need to.  _

A cut airline. Exposure to a vacuum. The heat of reentry into a planet. The impact of hitting the ground at terminal velocity. There was no way anybody could survive all that. She was dead!

_ But no-one found the body... _

He remembered the rumour that had surfaced in the depths of the extranet a couple of weeks back. That Shepard faked her own death to join Cerberus. 

Of course the extranet was full of wacky conspiracy theorists. Alliance Intelligence had quickly dismissed the idea. They only even noticed in the first place because the thread contained enough keywords to trigger an automatic alert. 

Of course that meant STG would know as well. Hopefully the salarians had dismissed it as rubbish just as quick.

_ But what if _ ... 

Cerberus could have created a clone. The technology was certainly there. The fact that it was illegal was unlikely to stop the terrorist organization. 

If there was an impostor out there claiming to be Shepard then they needed to be found and quickly. The damage they could cause if they got hold of Shepard's Alliance and Spectre codes was immeasurable.  _ Then again _ ...

He looked back at the email, the words: "through the gates of hell" jumping out at him. 

It was another of their codes. 

Not as complex as their personal 'bar code' designed to carry prearranged messages discreetly through a public place, but instead a simple identifying phrase. 

A lot of regular villa pairings had them. His one with Alec Ryder came from Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven' but with several words changed. 

However none of the call and response codes had ever been written down or recorded on any villa database, or anywhere else that someone could hack and discover it as being theirs. 

No. Nobody other than Shepard would know about that.

_ Was there any chance it could really be her? _

Either way, ignoring this was not an option. He reopened his omni-tool, planning out his response.

[Tali'Zorah vas Neema,

Thank you for your message. It is certainly hard to believe, to tell the truth I am not sure I can. However I am willing to hope. 

Tell your Shepard I will meet her where we had breakfast after Operation Quagmire at the time the bell rings at the Villa. If she can follow those instructions then I'll buy her a beer.

Admiral David Anderson]

...

Nikki sighed with relief as Tali finished reading the message aloud. If Anderson had shut her out she wasn't sure what she'd do, who she could turn to. He was being a paranoid bastard about it sure, but that was only to be expected under the circumstances. She would likely be just as cryptic if the positions were reversed.

"Thanks Tali. Send him a reply, tell him... tell him I'll see him there, but if he's paying I'd rather have a double Jack Daniels and a shot of Tequila." 

The quarian froze.

"I thought... I thought you didn't drink Shepard?"

"I don't, and any impostor who did a half decent job researching me would know that and think him putting that bit about a beer at the end was a test. They'd state something about being teetotal or they've not fallen off the wagon yet and pat themselves on the back for not falling for the trap. But me and Anderson have worked together a long time, we've got our own private code. I can't tell you what we're saying but that beer was a question and double Jack and a shot of Tequila is the answer, for this situation at least. Just make sure you include the bit about him paying." 

Tali nodded, although she still wasn't completely at ease for the rest of the journey.

...

The last time Nikki had been this nervous was her wedding day several months ago. Or a good two years back, depending which way you looked at it. 

At least the ward they were meeting in was used to people wandering around in armour so she didn't have to deal with any strange looks. Just the risk of sniper fire. And, unlike at her wedding, that wasn't just paranoia talking. 

She'd counted three strategically placed snipers so far and wouldn't be surprised if there were more. Anderson was an important man and she was a dead spectre, she'd be more worried if he hadn't taken precautions.

Finally she caught sight of the man himself, walking towards her in a leather jacket and jeans. He sat down opposite her, not saying anything as he analysed her face. 

It wasn't quite shock that graced his features, the email had given him time to get used to the idea of seeing her again, but he still seemed incapable of finding anything to say. 

After a long silence Nick decided to start things off by gesturing at his civilian clothes.

"So... If you're off duty, who's commanding the snipers?"

"Noticed them did you? Sorry, it's-"

"A necessary precaution. Don't worry I understand, I'd have done the same."

"Speaking of precautions..." The admiral raised his omni-tool, doing a quick scan for surveillance bugs, checking the results before he continued: "You said something about 'through the gates of hell'." 

Shepard nodded.

"As we make our way to heaven."

"Through enemy lines."

"First, the victory." Nikki finished the identifying code. Anderson relaxing slightly once it was done.

"Damn Shepard, I can't believe it's you."

"I'd offer to prove it with a DNA test, but a clone would pass that anyway. You got any questions only I can answer?"

The older N7 took a moment to think. A lot of their activities together were highly classified but that wouldn't necessarily prevent an impostor knowing the answer, it just meant that any security leaks or breaches were much higher.

"Tell me about Operation Invictus." He finally decided. "The true version, not what we put in the reports." 

Her face immediately lost all cheer.

"I was sent to infiltrate a merc group, everything was going well until they raided a competitor's base. They were after red sand but what they found was hundreds of slaves of all species, mostly kids. They didn't trade in slaves but instead of freeing them they started gunning them down."

She wasn't looking at him anymore. Eyes locked on her tightly clenched fists.

"I protested but I was a lowly initiate, they didn't listen to me. Instead they pushed a young batarian girl in front of me, put a pistol in my hand and told me to join in. I did a lot of shit I'm not proud of to keep my cover during Invictus, but I couldn't do that."

For a second her eyes fluttered close. When they reopened she looked him dead in the eye.

"I broke cover, killed the mercs, getting badly wounded in the process, then called you to arrange a pick up. Alliance declared the mission a failure, you smudged the reports so it looked like my cover was already blown beforehand and I didn't get in trouble."

"You saved a lot of lives that day Shepard."

"Not nearly enough of them." She retorted. 

Anderson was as certain it was really her as it was possible to be about something that was supposed to be impossible, but he wasn't a fan of the gloomy countenance that had settled over her at the memories of that mission and decided to do something about it.

"Ok, I'm half convinced, one more question. Who ordered that pizza during villa training?"

"Ha, nice try Sir. You know I can't answer that question." She smiled and it was just as contagious as the last time he'd seen her.

"Alright, you're you. What the hell happened? Where've you been?" 

She told him everything, starting with waking up in a Cerberus lab, the talk with the Illusive Man and going to Freedom's Progress, right up until Tali agreed to give her a lift to civilization. He listened, expression unreadable.

"That's... A lot to take in Shepard." He finally commented, causing the spectre to scoff.

"You're telling me Sir, I'm still struggling to wrap my head round the whole 2185 thing." 

That certainly helped put things in perspective. No matter how surreal all this felt to him, it had to be even more fucked up for her.

"Ok, what've you got for me?" He gestured at the two datapads on the table and she slid the first one across to him.

"Details on Project Lazarus, aka Zombie Shep. Given to me as a gesture of goodwill by Cerberus when I asked what they'd done to me. With that in mind I'd recommend keeping it on a closed network in case any viruses hitched a ride on the pad. Honestly? I didn't understand half of it and the other half made me nauseous. There are also pictures that are..." 

She trailed off, trying to forget the image of her own mangled corpse. 

"... Rather graphic." 

Anderson reached over, placing a supportive hand on her forearm. He knew she was rarely a fan of pity so didn't offer any words of comfort, merely moving the conversation on.

"And the second?"

"What happened on Freedom's Progress, as recorded by the quarians. You're going to want to watch that." 

He took her advice, eyes narrowing at the footage.

"Doesn't look like any known species, are we dealing with a First Contact scenario do you suppose?"

"People I was with seemed to think it could be the collectors." Nikki offered.

"Hmm, I've never seen one. It does match the description in the rumours though. The council always said collectors were supposed to be a myth. Then again, the council says a lot of things. What do you think?" 

Shepard shrugged but did so in a way that made the Admiral question: "Well?"

"I got no proof..."

"But?" Anderson prodded.

"You were on the ground during the Battle of the Citadel right?" 

He nodded. 

"... Fight anything that came off a spike?" 

Another nod, this time accompanied by a slight grimace.

"Any of them nonhuman?" 

Ever since Eden Prime she'd been fighting human husks, but during the mad dash across the presidium she'd come across spikes holding what she could only assume had once been several salarians. The image had stuck with her.

"A couple of turians and a hanar." He replied. "Why?"

"Really? A hanar. What did that look like?"

"Horrifying. You were making a point Shep?"

"Right, sorry... Imagine a husk." She raised her left index finger, then repeated the action with her right as she added: "and compare it to a human. Remember the thing on the spike." She gestured once more with the left. 

"Compared to a turian." A wave of the right. 

She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath and exhaling before deliberately tapping the datapad with her left hand. 

"Whatever those things on Freedom's Progress were, they kind of remind me of something I saw from the prothean beacon." Her right hand tapped her forehead.

"You sure?" Anderson queried. 

"No. Like I said, I've got no proof. It's just a feeling."

"If there's one thing I learnt from all my time working with you Shep, it's that your gut instincts are normally right. And if you're right about this then that means reapers."

"That would be the logical conclusion to jump to, yes."

"Shit." Anderson sighed. "We're still not ready for that, not by a long shot. The council increased funding for prothean research and archaeology, but details of the reapers is still very much handled on a 'need to know' basis in order to prevent unnecessary civilian panic."

His gaze grew contemplative. 

"You said Cerberus even built you a ship?"

"Yeah, why? Oh, no. I don't like it when you wear that face Sir."

"What face?"

"The one you got on right now. Last time you looked at me like that you sent me into a krogan gambling den as a distraction so your team could sneak into the warehouse next door undetected."

"Distractions are a common enough tactic."

"Yes but this particular distraction involved me walking in alone and asking if they had a license for varren fighting. I got bitten by a krogan and head butted by a varren and I  **_still_ ** can't work out if the story would be better or worse if it happened the other way round!" 

He chuckled.

"It was a rather impressive distraction."

"It's no use you buttering me up Sir, I'm still not going to like what you're about to say."

"If it's any consolation I hate myself for even suggesting it."

"Yeah, that's not improving my sense of trepidation. Just say it already."

"I need you to go back. Use Cerberus resources to investigate and combat this threat."

"You what?! I only just escaped!"

"I know Shepard, and I'm sorry. Believe me, I hate that organization and everything they stand for just as much as you do, but they're right about one thing. The Alliance is stretched too thin to be capable of combating this. We still haven't fully rebuilt the fleets from our losses in the Battle of the Citadel, let alone made progress on our new allowances as a council race. I blame the Andromeda Initiative for that."

"The what?" Nikki interrupted. For a moment Anderson looked confused by her ignorance before realisation struck.

"Oh yeah, you weren't around for that. The Andromeda Initiative. They're a large multi-species private exploration group with plans to travel under cryogenic stasis to the Andromeda galaxy. I don't know who's funding them, but they've got bigger pockets than the Alliance. There's only so many working ship building yards in the galaxy and the free market means they work for the highest bidder."

"Great, just what we need in the run up to war." Shepard scoffed.

"I know. Truth is Shepard, hundreds of thousands of colonists have vanished, but the attacks have been too random and spread out for us to respond. Until this footage we thought Cerberus themselves might be behind the attacks. They certainly seemed to be lurking around in the vicinity afterwards often enough."

"They do give off such a wonderfully evil vibe as well. Particularly with their history. Which brings me back to my original point. No. I can't do it Sir, not after everything Toombsey said about Akuze."

"I understand your feelings Shepard, but Cerberus may well be the only ones with the resources to stop this, and every credit they spend on combating the collectors is a credit not being spent on any of their... other endeavours."

"I get that Sir, I really do, but I'm not the only N7 in the galaxy. Can't we send someone else instead?"

"I wish we could. We've never been able to infiltrate Cerberus and they've never shown any willingness to work with us in the past. Not to mention the political backlash that would unfold if we did. But they brought you back specifically to fight this. That means they're willing to work with you, you have a chance nobody else has."

"Yeah, a chance to get a control chip in my head!" She scoffed.

"From what you've told me so far I don't think that's likely. I'm sure they'll do their damnedest to try manipulating you, but it sounds like they wanted to bring you back exactly as you were, and from what I've seen so far I'd say they succeeded."

"And what about the political backlash?" Shepard tried arguing.

"You're a spectre, it's practically expected that you'll sometimes work with dubious acquaintances.

"I still can't trust them Sir. I can't relax my guard, I won't even be able to sleep properly knowing they're on the same ship as me. You of all people know how exhausting it is being that wired all the time, and yet you still want to send me back out there alone?"

"You might not have to do it alone." He paused a moment, thinking. "Hmm, yes that might work. What would you say to Karin Chakwas going with you?" 

She looked at him in disbelief.

"Seriously? It's bad enough you want to throw me to the three headed hellhound, you're willing to order Chakwas there too? I'm not that cruel Sir."

"I wasn't planning on ordering her. I was going to ask. Give her a choice. She's spent the past two years on Mars, checking everyone entering or leaving the prothean archives for signs of indoctrination. Along with other minor colony ailments. I'm sure she'd jump at the chance of another ship posting, even if it means she has to put up with you again."

"Gee, thanks." The sarcasm rose instinctively in response to his teasing. "I still don't like it Sir. Besides, who says they'll even agree to her coming with me?"

"You've got to remember, they put the money and effort into resurrecting you Shepard, they're going to want you back. And right now you get to negotiate the conditions of any collaboration with them from a position of strength." 

She averted her gaze from him, running her hands through her hair.

"Look... I know I've got no right to ask this of you Shepard, and if I could think of any other way then I wouldn't, but believe me, I've been thinking for over a year now and I've got nothing. I swore an oath, to protect the people and planets of the Systems Alliance and I'm failing. This is the only thing we've not tried yet." 

It was around this point that Shepard realised Anderson didn't need any fancy tech to control her. Her old friend and mentor knew her well enough that he already knew just what buttons to press to manipulate her.

"And no, I can't order you," he continued, "and I sure as hell wouldn't blame you if you refused, but you have to consider the alternative. What happens if you just come back to us now? You know the brass will have you in debriefings for months, asking the same damn questions over and over again. And all the while more colonies are attacked, more people vanishing, more-"

"Fuck." She swore vehemently, cutting him off and fidgeting uneasily in her seat. "I hate you Sir, I hope you know that."

"Right now, I hate me too."

"If this goes wrong I'm going to hate you even more."

"Understood."

"If I end up with a control chip in my brain, I'm killing you first."

"Fair enough."

She looked up at him, a hundred different emotions warring across her face, before her fist slammed down onto the table.

" **_Fuck!_ ** " With a deep breath and the shallowest of nods she signified her reluctant consent. "Fine, give Chakwas a call. I'd rather have a squad of N-babies with me, but I'll take whatever back up I can get."

"Thank you Shepard." The admiral leant forward to offer his support but she brushed him off. 

The action hurt more than he'd admit, even though he knew he deserved it. His devotion to duty had already destroyed his marriage, he hoped it wouldn't cost him his friendship with Shepard too.

"I better start working on my list of demands." She informed him as she stood to leave. "I sure as hell ain't wearing their sodding uniform."


	4. A New Normandy

"Operative Lawson, this is Doctor Chakwas. Chakwas, Frankenstein." Had been how Shepard introduced the woman who had come to pick them up from the docks. 

Nobody laughed, or even smiled. 

The joke, if indeed it had been meant as one, did nothing to ease the tension. Instead it ratcheted up even higher as Shepard inquired with sickly sweetness:

"Lawson, did you get the copy of Veetor's data that I left for you ok?"

In a normal situation the question would have seemed perfectly innocent. 

In a  _ normal _ situation the datapad would have been left on a desk somewhere, or with a trusted go-between.  **_Not_ ** in the outstretched hands of a solitary decapitated Loki mech. The bot carefully positioned to stand sentinel over Jacob and Miranda's unconscious bodies while Nikki made good her escape.

Karin had chuckled at the absurdity and sheer Shepard-ness of the story last night while she caught up with her old commander over brandy and alcohol free beer, but she somehow doubted Lawson would see the funny side. 

Particularly when the Cerberus operative would have had to inform the Illusive Man that she'd lost their 4 billion credit investment on the very first outing. 

Somehow she couldn't picture the man as a very forgiving boss.

"The data was interesting." Miranda chose not to rise to the bait, keeping her face a mask of calm as the two Alliance women deposited their duffel bags in a corner of the kodiak shuttle and found seats for themselves. 

"Now that we know the collectors make use of some kind of advanced technology to immobilise their victims, I'd strongly recommend we start by acquiring Mordin Solus, the salarian professor-" 

She was cut off by the commander raising her fist to shoulder height, the Alliance hand gesture for freeze.

"I believe one of the terms of our arrangement was that I was in charge, Lawson. I hope you're not trying to tell me what to do?"

"Of course not. I was merely advising that we'll need Solus in order to develop a counter-" 

Again Shepard utilised the freeze fist, and this time there was a ripple on lake serenity, a solitary muscle twitch on Miranda's face before she was able to regain her composure. 

A faint flicker at the corner of Nikki's lip signified she'd seen the slip and Doctor Chakwas mentally sighed. If she wasn't careful Lawson-baiting would become a game and then a hobby to the frustrated commander.

"Perhaps now would be a good time for me to see these dossiers I've heard so much about." Shepard suggested, while Karin made a mental note to speak with her once they were alone. 

The two of them were going to have to work and live in close proximity with these people for an indeterminate length of time, and while the doc wasn't expecting them to suddenly be best friends, things would go a lot smoother if the commander was a little less antagonistic in her attitude. 

She couldn't entirely blame the younger woman for acting up considering her history with the organization, but surely an attempt at cordial professionalism couldn't hurt?

The next few minutes passed in blissful silence as Nikki read through the dossiers. Loath as she was to agree with Cerberus, recruiting the salarian scientist certainly was a priority, she continued reading until something else rather prudent caught her attention.

"Hey, why are we leaving the Citadel already? One of our potential recruits is there."

"Oh I wouldn't worry about little old me." A new voice came from an empty seat on her right. 

Shepard instinctively moved to attack, even before the cloaking device faded, blade deploying from her omni-tool and coming to rest at the newly visible woman's throat. 

"Kasumi Goto, at your service."

"Well that explains why my paranoia senses were tingling, I thought it was just being near her." Shepard declared, jerking her head in Lawson's direction while sheathing the omni-blade.

...

"Welcome to the new Normandy." Jacob Taylor greeted as they stepped off the shuttle and into the cargo bay. 

A few people stopped to look at them but for the most part the Cerberus crew continued with their tasks like good little worker bees, seemingly oblivious to the new presence in their midst. Although Shepard was sure there would be discreet glances the moment her back was turned.

"I hope you've got a good pilot, if I recall the balance wasn't what you'd expect on the old Normandy. Takes a while to get used to the oversized drive core in the back and her power tends to sneak up on you if you're not careful."

"Oh I think we've got a pilot you can trust." Miranda stated smugly, but Shepard wasn't listening, her attention caught by a chuckle on the far side of the cargo bay.

"Wow, couldn't have worded it better myself Commander." 

She turned, surprise clear on her face, to find Joker, not just standing there but also without any sign of his crutches. Her jaw dropped, no words coming out as a deluge of thoughts tumbled through her brain, too fast to process. 

"Yeah... I should have known she was lying, no way you'd forgive me." He muttered bitterly to himself, misinterpreting her prolonged silence. 

Miranda cut into their reunion with crisp, cool professionalism before Nikki could work out a response.

"Mister Moreau, if you could return to the bridge and set course for Omega please."

"Belay that!" Shepard sharply overruled. "Joker, set course for Korlus."

"Korlus?" He queried, looking apprehensively between the two women.

"Korlus."

"Commander, a word in my office please." Somehow Lawson managed to keep her tone neutral.

"Oh sure, I don't even know where that is yet." Shepard snarked. Miranda gave an irritated 'follow me' gesture before marching off, Nikki smirking in triumph as she followed, leaving a bewildered pilot and an eerie silence in her wake.

...

"What are you playing at Shepard? You agreed that Professor Solus was a priority acquisition. That we should recruit him as soon as possible-" 

Miranda had refused to be goaded into an argument in front of the crew, the crisp click of her heels the only sound she made on the way to her office. Unfortunately the heavier tread of boots was NOT the commander's sole auditory contribution to the journey.

The blasted woman had started humming to herself a mere three seconds after entering the elevator, a tune familiar to anyone who had traversed the Citadel. 

Thankfully she stopped again the instant the lift doors swished open, the last few metres of their journey conducted in a silence that was broken the moment the soundproof office door slid shut behind them. Miss Lawson finally unleashed her frustration, only to be cut off mid-tirade.

" **_Practical_ ** . I said we should recruit him as soon as practical."

"And now  **_is_ ** practical." 

Shepard raised her fist in interruption again and Miranda was nearly overwhelmed with the desire to break said hand in retaliation. She couldn't remember the last time a single person had managed to get under her skin so quickly and so thoroughly. 

Unfortunately, the heavy synthetic bone weave she'd used to reinforce the commander's skeleton during the Lazarus project would make that extremely difficult. 

Miranda just couldn't understand it, Shepard was supposed to be the best humanity had to offer. A hero and a shining beacon of hope. 

In the past she had helped the most insignificant people with the randomest of problems, without the slightest hesitation, simply because they asked. Yet, upon learning of humanity's desperate situation, instead of helping, she had turned her back and run away. 

Even when she had agreed to return, it had been with a long list of petty demands. Holding the lives of thousands of colonists hostage with her negotiations. 

She understood that Shepard had been Alliance. That she'd had some bad experiences with Cerberus in the past. But why couldn't she just accept that those were rogue cells? That the Illusive Man was working for the benefit of mankind.

Since the commander woke up Miranda had been knocked out, ridiculed and overruled by the younger woman. 

"We're at the Citadel," Nikki explained with exaggerated patience, and if her tone of voice sounded like she was talking to a child then the effect was entirely intentional. 

"To get to Omega we have to travel through the Eagle Nebula relay, Korlus is in the Eagle Nebula, according to your dossiers the krogan warlord and scientist Okeer is on Korlus. Solus runs a med clinic. He has a fixed abode, he's not going anywhere. We have no way of knowing how long Okeer will stay put before he moves on. Yes we delay getting the salarian onboard, but it is minimal and in the long run we save time and resources rather than backtracking across the galaxy."

"Fine." Miranda allowed, forcing herself back under control. 

She wasn't sure if she agreed with Shepard's decision, but at least the woman had a rational reason rather than: 'I just want to piss you off and undermine your authority'.

"But couldn't we at least have had this conversation in the shuttle? As your XO it would be beneficial to crew morale and discipline if we appear to be working from the same page."

"Well that's easy enough." Shepard shot back. "In future I'll give all the orders and you can stand behin- side me nodding." 

Just like that, Miranda found her irritation returning in full force.

...

Shepard padded through the empty corridors of the quiet ship. Occasionally she'd pass a member of the night shift and they'd stop what they were doing to issue a salute before returning to their duties. That in itself was another little prick of wrongness. 

Perhaps it was supposed to make her feel more at home but it did the opposite. Most of the time the hand movements were sloppy and they took no notice of the customs and courtesies of either the navy or marine corps, saluting when they shouldn't and forgetting on occasions when they should. 

Then there was the issue of them wearing white and gold instead of Alliance blue, and the giant terrorist logo emblazoned on the walls. 

The wrongness made her skin crawl.

Or maybe that strange prickly sensation was just where her skin was still trying to knit itself back together. 

Either way, twisted and wrong just about summed things up right now.

Upon reaching the cockpit she flopped down in the co-pilot's seat, Joker glancing over at her in surprise. His eyes lingered just a fraction too long on her Lazarus scars, before dropping down to read the bright blue hoody that declared: 'I don't want to be here' in white writing.

"So... what'd I miss?" Somehow she made it sound like she'd just popped to the toilet in the middle of a vid and the casualness threw him.

"Uh, Commander?" He'd hardly seen her since she came aboard two days ago. She'd been busy running her ground team through the grinder, while he'd been flying the ship.

"Come on, it's been two years. Humanity has a seat on the council, weapons have switched over to disposable heat sinks, apparently Elysium has a biotiball team now. Any new vids come out that you'd recommend?" 

He just stared at her in confusion. It was the middle of the night cycle. She should be asleep.  **_He_ ** should be asleep, only he tried not to as much as possible. 

He'd grown weary of waking up a mere handful of hours later from the nightmares of that day.  _ The day Shepard had-... _ He quickly cut that thought off, dry swallowing as another passed through his brain:  _ was she awake for the same reason? _

Her gaze was focused on the blue-shifted light outside the cockpit window and before he could properly think it through he found himself asking:

"Are we... Are we good Commander?"

"Hmm?" She turned to face him, expression clearly stating: 'I heard you but don't know what you're on about'.

"It's just... You didn't seem too happy when you found out I was onboard and uh... Well, if there was ever a reason worthy of holding a grudge over-..." He faltered as one side of her lips quirked up in a tired smile.

"I'm glad you're alive Joker." She reassured. "Just not sure how I feel about your choice in uniform." 

It hurt if she was honest. 

He might not have been on the ground teams, didn't experience first hand the horrors of the Cerberus labs they'd stumbled upon while serving aboard the first Normandy, but still... he had to know what they were capable of.

"The Alliance grounded me." Jeff defended himself. "They took away the one thing in life that mattered to me. Then I was shown the blueprints for this baby, hell yeah I joined Cerberus." 

Part of her wanted to be disappointed that his allegiance had been bought so easily. A larger part was thankful that was all there was to it. That he didn't believe in their ideals.

"And do you really trust them?"

"Well, I don't trust anyone who earns more than I do, but they aren't all bad. Saved your life, let me fly. Then there's these leather seats."

She scoffed at that last one, it was an obvious attempt to dispel tension, the lightness didn't last long however. Seriousness returning as the pilot continued: 

"I mean... I just don't see why they'd invest this much money if they were planning to screw us over?"

Shepard stayed silent, remembering the undoubtedly expensive experiments that had gone wrong in Cerberus facilities she'd encountered in the past. The fact that they likely had more money than sense didn't exactly endear the organization to her.

Her gaze returned to the window. The streaks of light signifying passing stars as they traveled at Faster-Than-Light speed were undeniably beautiful, but the faint spike in her heart rate made her wonder if she could ever find the same level of peace looking out at the night sky as she did before her... incident.

"Anyone asked how you're doing lately?" Joker suddenly inquired, his voice cutting across the auditory vacuum. She shook her head and he took a breath before doing just that. "How you doing Shep?"

She didn't respond at first, in fact Joker was beginning to think she wouldn't answer at all when she randomly blurted out: "I got ten toes."

"Uh, most humans do Commander. It's what separates us from the turians."

"Yeah but I don't. I lost one years ago on Antibaar and now all of a sudden the little fucker's back, just grinning up at me every time I look at my feet. And I lost a dragon wing. All the money Cerberus spent putting me back together you'd think they could at least touch up my tattoos but noooo..." She lapsed back into momentary silence and Joker shifted awkwardly beside her, wishing he hadn't asked.

It wasn't that he didn't care as such, just that he had no idea what the hell to do. He was more used to receiving and often ignoring psychological help than dispensing it. He was pretty certain he wasn't qualified, particularly when his CO added: 

"I keep tilting my head at funny angles in the mirror, trying to work out if my dental records still match."

"Couldn't you just ask Chakwas?" He attempted to pass the problem on, but she grunted non-committedly in response.

"I saw how she looked at me after reading the data on Project Lazarus." 

That didn't really help him much. Idly he wondered how they could go from barely speaking since the commander came aboard, to deep dark conversations like this. 

"It was the same look you get when you're in civvies and someone finds out about your Vroliks."

"Ah..." Now he understood. Well, that part at least, he hated that look. A mix of pity and fascinated curiosity. "Only thing worse than that is the look I get when people find out for the first time while I'm in uniform."

"Right." Shepard snorted. "She says I'm me, but..." She shrugged hopelessly before electing to change the topic. "So... Elysium Executioners, they any good?"

"I don't know, I don't pay any attention to b-ball." Joker ruined the changeover.

"Elysium Executioners have won seven of their last ten games." A voice piped up from the pilot's left, interrupting him. Shepard starting slightly as EDI's blue avatar popped into existence. 

She mentally cursed herself for forgetting about the Cerberus abomination. Wondering how long the damn thing had been spying on them. 

It was no use her guarding her tongue around the Cerberus crew if she was just casually going to blurt things out where the walls could hear and report back on her. She needed to be more careful.

"Commander can't we get a mute button for this thing? It's like ship cancer." 

Nikki was gratified that she wasn't the only one creeped out by the thing, but she knew turning the volume off wouldn't stop it listening in on them. She feigned nonchalance as she retorted:

"Oh I don't know, at least it pays attention to biotiball." 

_ Probably not actually.  _ She realised a second later.  _ Much more likely it just did a super quick extranet search. Still, no point antagonising the thing that could potentially turn off the ship's oxygen. One death by asphyxiation was more than enough thank you _ .

"So, EDI, have they got a strong team or just one stand out player that they'd fall apart without?"

_ I can't believe I'm talking b-ball with a damn AI. _ She thought as the intelligence concerned started answering her questions and listing various stats.

...

It was a sad state of affairs when you felt safer on the second highest murder per capita travel destination in the Teminus systems than on your own ship, Nikki mused as she cheerfully bit into her takeaway kinyernasap. 

The two Cerberus operatives with her seemed decidedly less at ease. Although whether that was due to Korlus' less than savoury reputation, the high number of aliens around them, or simply a fear she'd try to knock them out again and do another runner she wasn't entirely certain.

Either way, nobody else had been interested in the asari-batarian fusion cuisine she was currently sampling while waiting for Miss Goto to finish finding out just where on this junkyard planet their target was.

"You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy." Jacob quoted quietly as he observed the diverse lifeforms flowing around the market. 

They were by no means the only humans present, but were heavily outnumbered by the amount of batarians, quarians and even volus walking around. 

It seemed every species in the known galaxy had a representative or ten in the roiling crowds and Shepard loved it. The almost overwhelming variety of sights, sounds and smells leaving her feeling more alive than at any other point since her revival.

"This is nothing, wait until you see Omega." She advised.  _ Now that  _ **_is_ ** _ a hive of villainy. At least Korlus has real sunlight, not that artificial crap _ . 

It was warm too. Nowhere near as hot as home, but the native Mindoirian would take what she could get, shifting slightly so her black armour could absorb more heat from the sun, as content as a lizard basking on a rock. 

She didn't let that contentment dull her senses though. Hand darting out with impressive speed and precision as she noted a small amount of her food attempt to levitate. 

"Did you get the intel Kasumi?"

"Of course." The thief sounded almost insulted as she shimmered back into visibility. 

Nikki got the feeling that the Japanese woman found the bustle all around them just as refreshing and invigorating as she did, and suspected Goto was a few credits richer than when she left the group. 

"Okeer's at a Blue Suns compound, I've got the coordinates."

...

"The krogan are your example and your warning. As ferocious as they are, failures are expendable!" 

From the moment Shepard's team stepped off the shuttle they'd been under bombardment from a tirade of pure drivel, courtesy of an ever present system of loudspeakers.

"Is she really so delusional that she thinks that actually motivates people or is she just an asshole?" Shepard wondered out loud across the squad comms before adding: "What do you think Miranda?"

"Why are you asking me? How would I know?"

"Well, you're the most delusional person here." Nikki immediately shot back before internally cringing as her brain processed the words. 

Believe it or not she had been trying to follow doctor's orders and be less confrontational towards her new crew members, but it was proving tricky.

She'd even offered to buy them food earlier when she got herself something, but naturally they'd declined the non-human food despite it being perfectly safe for all levos and mighty damn tasty to boot. 

And now, when she tried including them in the light banter she was engaged in with Kasumi across the battlefield, the woman just stuck to her ice cold bitchface personality and set herself up perfectly for the petty comeback.

"And you're an asshole." Lawson muttered so quietly that Shepard nearly missed it. She certainly wouldn't have heard it without her new, keener, Lazarus project hearing. 

She simply smirked. 

Regardless of whether or not she  _ intended _ to say it, there was something immensely satisfying about getting under the Cerberus operative's skin. 

Before things could escalate any further, Kasumi's voice cheerfully cut across comms to inform them of a non-bloodraging krogan fighting Blue Suns up ahead.

"Nobody target the krogan. We go in, kill the Blue Suns, then the rest of you find defensive positions while I talk to him."

"You want to talk to the krogan?"

"It's only fair, we already talked to a Blue Sun, he didn't seem to know much."

"And if he attacks you?"

"Then we fight back. He's not bloodraging though so I doubt that'll be a problem. The krogan have a saying... I forget what it is at the moment but it's very close to the human one about the enemy of my enemy. You'd do well to remember that saying Lawson, it's the reason I'm here after all. Joining you guys against the reapers makes marginally more sense than helping the reapers take down Cerberus."

...

Hours later Miranda thought back on those words as she sat in her office, dutifully typing up a mission report for the Illusive Man. 

Shepard had been able to talk peacefully with her chosen krogan, but there were far more bloodraging specimens up ahead who had been beyond talking and the battle had been tough. Miranda had the bruises to prove it. 

She would have had far worse injuries if it hadn't been for Shepard. 

Despite the loud and vehement daily doses of vitriol aimed both at Lawson personally and her employers, the commander hadn't even hesitated to run straight at a krogan who had managed to bowl Miranda over during a charge.

It sounded suicidal, the actions of a mad woman, but somehow Shepard timed it to perfection. 

A bellowing war cry and a burst of weapon's fire distracted the massive reptile. Its pea sized brain informing it Shepard was a threat that needed immediate extermination and it forgot about the helpless biotic at its feet, one good stomp or shotgun blast away from annihilation. 

The moment she was sure she had the krogan's complete attention, the spectre ducked back into cover. Insanity forgotten as she instantly returned to the crisp, cool, sane tactics of a professional soldier. The woman was just one gigantic living contradiction.

However, despite the squad not suffering any casualties, Miranda struggled to word her report so that the mission came across as anything other than a complete failure. 

Okeer was dead. Any knowledge he may have had about the collectors gone with him. All they had to show for their time on Korlus was a tank containing a single pure, perfect krogan.

Miranda wasn't sure she wanted to know what a warlord so radical he'd been exiled from Tuchanka's definition of 'perfect krogan' was. She would be quite happy to send both the tank and the creature inside to another Cerberus cell for study. 

Of course, Shepard had a nasty habit of doing the complete opposite of what she recommended, but even she wouldn't risk the entire crew's lives in a petty act of rebellion.  _ Would she? _ A sudden inexplicable feeling of dread filled her.

"EDI, what is the commander doing right now?"

"Commander Shepard is currently in the elevator on her way to the mess hall. She has expressed a desire to make schnitzels." The AI declared and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. 

The only pork on the ship was supposed to be being saved for a roast. However, considering all the things the dratted woman could be doing, that was a minor issue not worth instigating an argument about.

"The commander thinks Grunt will enjoy the way you get to beat the meat with a hammer before smothering in breadcrumbs and drowning in oil." EDI continued. 

Miranda wondered how anyone managed to make cooking sound so violent before a much more pressing question entered her head.

"Who on earth is Grunt?" 

EDI had never used any nicknames before, always referring to people by their proper titles. Even Joker was Mr Moreau.

"The krogan that was brought onboard at Korlus." The AI informed her. 

Miranda nearly had heart palpitations at that.

"What!? When did Shepard let it out of the tank?"

"Thirteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds ago."

"Why didn't you stop her? Why didn't you tell me?"

"She ordered me not to. I did try to inform her about Cerberus protocols but that only seemed to make her more determined. I also suggested it would be prudent to let someone else know in case she needed backup but she insisted that she had a plan and everything would be fine."

Not for the first time Miranda wished the Illusive Man had allowed her to fit the commander with a control chip.

She took a deep breath to compose herself, it wasn't the AI's fault, it may be sentient but it was still limited by programming. She briefly considered whether or not she should teach it about reverse psychology but for now decided to settle for:

"EDI, the next time Shepard says something 'will be fine', inform me immediately."


	5. How to train a krogan

"Lieutenant Deacon, Private Lambert, Corporal May," Nikki recited the names of those lost on Akuze as she worked her way through the set of fifty push-ups that had become part of her morning routine. She may be forced to work with the devil, but she wouldn't forget what they had done.

Of course  _ technically _ there had only been forty-nine deaths that day, she herself being the fiftieth marine on Akuze. The sole survivor, or so she'd thought. 

Unfortunately Cerberus' evil knew no bounds, and she had no difficulty finding another name to round off her set.

Her muscles ached, reminding her they'd already done a full set of pull-ups, but she grit her teeth as she forced her way through: "Sergeant Harris... Corporal Toombs... Admiral Kahoku."

She let her arms collapse, rolling onto her back as she gasped for air. A handful of seconds breather only and then she was up, heading for the shower so she could begin her day.

...

Shepard smiled when her eyes landed on Grunt as she entered the mess for breakfast. He was all alone at one table, the ship's crew giving him a wide berth, but he didn't seem to care about the lack of company.

Instead his attention was focused on the multitude of plates covering the entirety of the surface before him. It looked suspiciously like there was a separate plate for every edible item that was currently being served. 

The young krogan may have centuries worth of knowledge about krogan history and fighting techniques in his brain, but he had no experience of life or the pleasures it could contain. He seemed eager to learn, particularly about the joys of food.

As she neared him he made a disgruntled sound, removing a plate of fried mushrooms from his collection and sliding it beneath the table where it joined a growing selection of rejects that filled what Nikki had mistakenly considered to be empty chairs.

"How's it going Grunt?" She asked, picking up the shunned offerings so she could sit down beside him.

"This is my favourite." He declared happily as he munched his way through a plate of boiled eggs. 

Shepard briefly considered explaining to him that you were supposed to remove the shells before eating but decided against it. Just like she failed to mention that the fried eggs in his reject pile were technically the same food. 

Although, in fairness, he may have a point. These days any egg that wasn't shell encrusted probably originated as a manmade powder. Real animal eggs were rare and expensive. A luxury item. Certainly they never made their way to Alliance mess halls.

Shaking such thoughts from her head, she scraped the various leftovers onto a single plate, taking care to make sure the croissants didn't land in the chopped tomato, and tucked in. Ignoring Grunt's stare at her decision to eat what he considered to be the disgusting foods.

"Have you tried bacon yet?" Nikki enquired, pointing out the plate in question. 

His hand reached out, claiming a rasher and returning to his mouth, his eyes broadcasting his awe as the taste hit his tongue.

" **_This_ ** is my favourite!" 

Nikki laughed brightly at his change of mind, earning a few stares from the Cerberus personnel who had never heard the sound before. 

She went to pick some of the heavenly food off his plate only to find a heavy grip around her wrist.

"Mine." Grunt growled threateningly but she didn't cower, merely turned her head to look at him, seeming completely nonplussed as she responded in an amused voice:

"Don't make me kill you with a fork Grunt. I just want to show you something." 

The krogan wondered if she'd show him how to kill someone with a fork, it sounded interesting and hadn't been included in Okeer's imprints. He'd have to ask her later.

For now he let go, watching with curiosity as she pulled items off several different plates and piled them together, before pouring a golden coloured liquid over the whole thing and placing the concoction in front of him. 

"Try this."

The thought of putting different foods in his mouth at the same time hadn't even occurred to Grunt before and his mind was blown as the mix of flavours combined into something even greater than the sum of their parts. 

He stared out across the table, wondering what other combinations could be created from it. Fortunately the commander seemed just as eager to teach him as he was to learn. 

It was only his second day out of the tank but it was already looking like the best day ever.

...

Grunt charged, his shotgun singing sweetly as he focused on the only worthy opponent on the battlefield.

He ignored the petty assaults of the inferior beings all around him. Not noticing as the combined effect of their weapons took down his shield. 

A lucky shot brought him to his knees but he stumbled back up with a roar.

"No. Not good enough." Shepard's voice cut clearly through the cacophony of war and a moment later the simulation faded, revealing the Normandy's shuttle bay. "Charging off like that puts both you and the rest of the squad at risk."

"If they can't look after themselves they don't deserve to live." The krogan retorted, annoyed at being held back by such weaklings. "Okeer said-"

"I don't care. Okeer's not here, I am." The commander strode towards him. "You have the strength and ability to be a great warrior Grunt." 

His chest swelled at her praise. 

"But you also have the potential to be so much more.  **_If_ ** you learn to fight smart and how to be part of a team."

He already knew how to fight. The tank had taught him everything he needed to know about combat and how to beat the other species. 

Then again, the tank said that humans, asari and salarians were all supposed to be soft, easy to kill. 

Shepard most definitely wasn't. 

She had even bested him each time they sparred. 

It made him wonder what else the tank was wrong about.

...

Nikki had lost count of the amount of battlefields she'd been on, the stench of blood and smoke and rotting corpses entwining into a single disgusting bouquet. 

Then there was the aroma associated with slave pens. The sweat, vomit, faeces and fear of a hundred sentient beings crammed tight into a space barely big enough for forty. 

And somehow she doubted she'd ever forget the smell of that batarian prison. The  _ nicest _ part had been when her team had infiltrated in and out via the varren infested sewers.

Despite her vast and varied nasal experiences, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust as she stepped out of the Normandy's airlock, immediately coming under assault from the unique fragrance of Omega. 

Grunt alone seemed unaffected by the smell, but then this was his first experience of anywhere other than the Normandy. He was still busy processing the sights and sounds of the place, none of the images and vids from the tank could prepare him for reality and everything seemed so new and fresh. Even a rank, millennia old space station.

He tensed as a salarian approached them, relaxing at a subtle hand signal from Shepard. 

It wasn't long before a batarian scared the scavenger away, Grunt didn't like his attitude, the way he demanded the commander obey the whims of this 'Aria'. He wanted to teach the batarian some respect but he remembered Shepard's words, both during transit and right before they left the ship: 

_ "A lot of people will try and provoke a fight from us, they may even try to insult us, but they are just the meaningless words of cowards. There's no honour in fighting such worthless opponents. Always remember, the greatest insult a krogan can give is to deem someone not worth killing. And trust me, few people are worthy of a death at our hands. We don't start any fights but, if it becomes unavoidable, we  _ **_will_ ** _ finish them. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine." _

So, he followed her lead all the way into Afterlife, hiding his disappointment when the group of batarians trying to intimidate them just inside the club pissed their pants at his commander's response instead of descending into a brawl like he'd hoped. 

The pounding music and flashing lights were such a contrast to the quiet and pristine Normandy that he'd spent his entire short life on so far, his head darting around to take it all in while Shepard spoke to the melodramatic asari in charge.

...

"It affects multiple species: turians, salarians, krogan, you name it. Only humans are immune. And vorcha, if you count them."

_ Nothing's ever simple is it _ . Nikki glanced uncertainly at Grunt standing behind her. She needed to recruit Professor Solus but this plague had already proven its lethality, she didn't want to risk her new friend's life.

"Sorry Grunt, but it's safer to stick with a squad who's immune to the plague."

"You promised me I could fight with you." The giant krogan practically whined.

"And you will, but you can't fight a plague, you can't even see it!"

"I'm not afraid of a disease. I don't get sick."

"Grunt, you're not even a month old! How the hell would you know?"

"Commander, if the slums are as lawless as they say then he might be useful." Miranda interrupted, earning a glare from the younger woman. Trust Cerberus to put the mission before the wellbeing of the people on it. 

Then again, in fairness, that wasn't solely a Cerberus mindset. 

She still remembered Anderson's teachings:  _ 'sometimes the cost of failing a mission is higher than the cost of losing your men' _ . The difficult part was knowing when those times were.

She could always postpone. Wait until Jacob made contact with the mercenary that was supposed to be meeting them this afternoon on the Omega docks. Or even call him or Kasumi over to replace the krogan right now and let one of the shipside crew greet the merc. However there was no way of knowing how desperate the situation was inside the slums. 

It had already been at least a week. What if something happened to the professor before they got there? Surely there must be other scientists in the field who could help against the collectors? But she had no idea who they were, or if they were competent, or how to convince them to abandon their current projects.

Grunt was still looking at her pleadingly, desperate to be allowed to come and she felt her resolve falter. 

Besides, what else was she supposed to do with him? 

Force him to sit on a ship full of xenophobes and hope neither side started a fight in her absence? 

Allow him to wander the perilous streets of Omega without an escort?

"Fine. But remember what I've been teaching you."

...

They made good time fighting through the streets, even with Shepard stopping to help everyone she could along the way. 

She couldn't help it, it was just the kind of person she was.

Didn't matter if it was a sick batarian claiming 'her kind' were responsible for the plague. Or a group of frightened humans hiding in case of retribution from non-humans who thought the same. She did what she could to provide them all with hope or, where possible, something more substantial.

Then she heard the cough.

"You ok Grunt?"

"I don't get sick!" He declared resolutely. The proclamation ruined slightly by the racking cough that tore through his lungs. 

Shepard gripped her rifle a little tighter, upping the pace slightly as she pushed her squad a little harder to get to the salarian's med clinic in time.

...

Fortunately by the time they reached Solus the professor had already developed a cure for the plague, and Shepard was able to breathe a little easier once he'd administered the lifesaving treatment to Grunt.

Well... briefly that is.

At least until the vorcha switched off the life support systems meaning everybody in the entire district's breathing was about to become a hell of a lot harder if she didn't hurry up and do something about it.

"Alright Lawson, breather helmet on." Shepard instructed, following her own advice. It blocked peripheral vision slightly but was better than suffocating. 

Admittedly they had some time before the air became stale and the current oxygen levels dropped below safety percentages, but she wasn't willing to risk not noticing the danger later. In fact, if human's hadn't been immune to the plague she would have ordered them on earlier. 

"Grunt?"

"Yeah, yeah I know: stick to incendiary rounds against vorcha, don't charge the pyros, don't waste concussive rounds on krogan and don't forget about the flank." 

Actually she'd been about to tell him to stay at the clinic, he had been coughing up blood a mere five minutes ago after all. However Mordin's chemical cocktail seemed to have done the trick and without working environmental systems he had just as much chance of dying here as he did out there. 

At least if he was fighting by her side they had more chance of reaching the controls in time. Plus, she was pleased he was listening to her advice.

"Good. And the varren?"

"If they're attacking you or Lawson I have to kill it, not try to adopt it." He muttered a little less enthusiastically and Nikki fervently hoped he'd remember that one. 

She was fairly sure she'd find it hilarious to watch back the helmet cam footage later, but it certainly hadn't been funny at the time.

...

"Shepard, I've scanned the room. The central control system is in an alcove in the centre of the back wall. You can inject the cure and reinitialise systems there." 

Nikki was pretty sure she could have figured that out herself, but the Normandy's AI was only trying to help and it did save them maybe twenty seconds in the long run so she thanked it and followed its instructions. 

Only to immediately come under fire from more vorcha reinforcements.

"I have located the fan controls. There are two, one on either side of the room you are in now." 

_ Yeah, never would have figured that out by myself. How did I ever manage to complete missions without you? _ the commander thought sarcastically as she scrambled into cover to avoid a rocket that nearly hit her despite being very poorly aimed.

A second explosion had her ears ringing.

"Fuck's sake! Where the hell did they get so many rocket launchers from?"

"Unknown. However they are using the ZS9 Mk84 from Elkoss Combine, so the most logical explanation would be-" 

_ And the award for most useless information from an AI goes to... _

"It was a rhetorical question EDI!"

...

"District saved, diabolical plan thwarted, professor recruited... All in all I'd say that's a job well done. I vote for a shower and ice cream. Not at the same time." Nikki opined as they made their way back through the streets of Omega.

"Aren't you forgetting something Commander?" Of course Miranda just had to open her mouth and ruin Shepard's good mood. 

To think they'd been doing so well, nearly an entire mission together without a declaration of war and only two and a half fairly minor instances of snark. Doctor Chakwas would be so proud.

"Uh... Chocolate sprinkles?" The spectre wasn't willing to let go of the dream just yet.

"No, Archangel. Aria didn't seem to think he could hold out much longer."

"Think of it like an audition, if he can't hold off a couple hundred mercs until I've had a shower then he's got no hope on our little suicide mission." Shepard's faux cheer evaporated in the face of the Cerberus operative's patented 'look' and she gave a groan. 

"Fine, fine, no rest for the wicked. I'll go save his useless hide. But if the plan's still to infiltrate in as freelance mercs then you're not coming. I'll take Taylor or the actual merc if he's arrived yet. Grunt you still up for some more fighting?"

The tank bred krogan literally bounced with excitement as he pounded his fists together in response. Nikki couldn't help a smile at his enthusiasm. 

"Well that makes one of us at least. Lawson, I expect ice cream when I get back, or failing that tiramisu." 

With those parting words she headed off towards Afterlife. 

_ This bloody vigilante better be worth it. _


	6. Archangels & Valkyries

He was going to die. Of that he was certain. 

Of course technically everybody died eventually, but his demise was closer than most. 

Truth be told, he was surprised he'd held out this long. 

He dimly wondered if he was supposed to be afraid. 

He was angry. 

Full of hate and regret, but not really scared.

He'd already recorded a message. His 'final reckoning'. An attempt to set the record straight and tell his side of the story. To combat the lies and propaganda that would circulate after his death. 

He wondered if anyone would ever listen to it. Would they care? About who he was and why he'd come? Or would he forever be known as Archangel, the fool turian who thought he could change Omega.

That had been several hours ago. Every time he dared to hope that they might run out of mercs to send against him yet more reinforcements arrived. 

The mobile turret he'd installed along with the barricades on the ground floor finally fell silent, utterly destroyed by overwhelming firepower.

It was only a matter of time before he shared its fate. The fate of his squad, lying in body bags in the other room.

He was so tired.

Even his anger had faded, drained away along with the last trickles of adrenaline that had been powering his body. Exhaustion taking up camp in every muscle of his being.

He wouldn't last much longer. 

It was simple mathematics. 

The time needed to reload his rifle meant he could never kill them all before they made it across the bridge.

It was strange how your priorities changed at the end. 

He never would have believed it if anyone had told him he'd end up calling his father in his last moments in this galaxy. 

That he would tell Vakarian Sr. he was right. 

He'd also told him he was doing target practice but his father wasn't stupid, he knew what was going on, even if he didn't know the where or the why.

The enemy had taken the bridge and were into the hall below him. He'd locked the door to his vantage point but knew it wouldn't hold them for long. 

He couldn't get out but he would take as many of them with him as possible. He was only sorry it wouldn't be enough.

He wouldn't be able to avenge his team like they deserved. 

No... they deserved more than that. They deserved to be alive, to have had a better leader than him.

He popped back up, overruling the protestation from his aching body as he sighted another one, nearly dropping his rifle in shock at the face that appeared in his scope. 

It was the face of a ghost. 

Or maybe a valkyrie.

He'd heard the ancient Earth myth from a human at C-Sec years ago. Of warrior women that came to collect the souls of those who died in battle. 

According to turian tradition it was supposed to be the spirits of his clan. A mix of the greatest warriors and the closest family, depending on how he'd lived his life and earnt his death. 

At least, that was the stories they were taught as children. He'd never really believed it. Just like how he'd never been a good turian. 

Maybe those character flaws were enough for his clan to turn their back on him and allow his old commander's spirit to be the one to come collect him. 

Either that or she'd fought them for the honour. He wouldn't put it past her.

The beep of his shields failing brought his attention back to reality and he ducked back into cover, shaking his head with an irritated growl to clear the stupidity from his brain. Great, sleep deprivation was making him hallucinate again.

"They're with Archangel!" The sudden, panicked call from below confused him. He didn't have any backup left. 

Erash, Monteague, Mierin, Krul, Melenis, Ripper, Sensat, Vortash, Butler, Weaver... They were all dead. 

The only one missing was Sidonis and he somehow doubted that traitor had come back to help.

Taking a peek, he saw the valkyrie attacking his enemies. He didn't remember physical help being part of the legend, but the opposition went down regardless.

For the first time he noticed the others with her, a young krogan and two human males occupying opposite ends of the age and skin tone spectrums. 

He didn't recognise any of the others, but they were displaying far more teamwork than any of the other freelancers. Even if it fell short of the smooth, instinctive, almost telepathic synergy the Normandy squad had developed by the end of their hunt for Saren.

Of course the Blue Suns on the barricade had to notice eventually, opening fire on his potential saviours from behind. 

He'd call it cheating if Shepard's team hadn't just done something similar. 

Instead he lined up a headshot and got to work, covering the squad's back as they advanced towards his position.

The next few minutes passed with agonising slowness. Fear and hope squeezing tight around his lungs in equal measure as he waited to see who would reach his position first. 

Strange how he hadn't been scared until he had hope. 

He'd been resigned and accepting of his fate until there was a chance of something else. 

He heard the door open behind him but didn't turn around, concentrating on the human merc hiding behind a pillar in his scope. 

There was still a chance this could be the last shot of his life and he wasn't about to botch it.

"Archangel?" 

He breathed easy as he heard her voice. It was a little curter than how she normally spoke to her crew, but it was undoubtedly her voice. Besides... if she was calling him that then she had no way of knowing he was crew. 

He gently squeezed the trigger, ruining yet another merc's day, before he turned to face her. Making sure he was in cover before he sluggishly sat down and removed his helmet.

"Shepard... I thought you were dead." 

He'd heard rumours that it was possible but never believed he'd see it, let alone be the one to cause it, as his former commander was rendered speechless. 

Her jaw dropped in surprise and she blinked owlishly a couple of times before finally her brain and mouth managed to recover their usual unstoppable connection and she blurted out:

"Garrus? You- here... what-... How the  **hell** did you manage to piss off every merc organisation in the Terminus Systems?!" 

He chuckled.

"It wasn't easy, I  _ really _ had to work at it." 

She grinned in appreciation of his response, but it quickly faded as her sharp, analytical gaze roved across his face. He must look as bad as he felt.

"Taylor, Massani, balcony. Grunt, door." She ordered, her squad instantly moving to set up guard while she closed the distance between them, pulling dextro rations and medi-gel from a pouch in her armour. "Eat, drink. You're going to need the energy if we're to get out of here."

"They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way." He protested, gesturing towards the bridge. "They've got the rear of the building covered with snipers and I sealed off the access tunnels in the basement."

"Have you considered flying out?"

"There's two X3M skycars in the garage but they're too slow, the Blue Suns have a Mantis gunship, we'd be shot down before we make it half a block. No... I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defences and take our chances. It's not a perfect plan, but it's a plan." 

Her lips twitched again and he could hardly believe there had once been a time when he'd found human facial expressions so difficult to read. Not when this smirk seemed to so clearly say:  _ Bitch, please, I'm Commander Shepard! _

"Would this be a good time to mention I have a kodiak shuttle just waiting for coordinates for extraction? We follow your plan until we can take out the Mantis, then we should be good for pickup."

...

The plan went off perfectly.

Well... If you ignored the bit where the Blood Pack decided to send a demolition team through the auxiliary tunnels forcing Shepard and Grunt to head down to the basement to fend them off while the rest of the team helped defend the bridge.

Oh, and that bit where the gunship wasn't content with playing the part of sacrificial lamb. Instead deciding to spray the wall with its turret mounted machine guns and launch rockets through the windows. 

Garrus was caught in the blast and it took all of Shepard's training and combat experience to keep focused on the fight until they'd taken care of the threat.

The moment the Mantis was destroyed she was by the turian's side. Villa training had included basic frontline trauma care for the major alien species, but a quick glance was enough to tell her this was far beyond her skillset.

Nikki wanted to scream. To cry. To beg for Garrus to hold on and not die on her. 

Instead the commander buried the feelings deep. It shouldn't have been so easy but she'd had plenty of practice in her career.

A numb horror, an almost hollow feeling, took up residence inside her chest but she ignored it as she called the shuttle for medevac and ordered her squad to watch the perimeter. Just because the gunship was down didn't guarantee all the mercs would instantly stop fighting.

The part of her that thought and felt watched on in a semi-detached way as she carried out her training on autopilot. 

Apply direct pressure to the wound, try and stem the bleeding. 

Tourniquets worked great for this if the injury was on an arm or leg, not so useful with a head injury. 

Medi-gel was widely considered a miracle worker by civilians and troops alike but even it had its limits.

She needed more hands.

She wasn't sure if it was evolution or creationism that was to blame but the fact that most dominant species only had two arms was, right now, the stupidest thing ever. 

Four or more arms would be so much handier.

She didn't even notice the pun as she tried every trick she could think of to keep Garrus alive long enough to get him to Chakwas.

Chakwas could help.

Chakwas was god.

Chakwas would have had the common sense to give her four arms if she'd been responsible for divine creation.

The shuttle finally arrived and she had her more hands. 

The fact that they were attached to more bodies that were getting in the way and not to her brain, forcing her to come up with words to coordinate them instead of simply knowing what needed to be done, made it less than ideal, but still an improvement.

An omni-tool glowed bright orange, scanning the wounded turian and forwarding the details to the Normandy, warning the doctor what she would be up against before the patient arrived. Saving time and hopefully saving lives.

Doctors Chakwas and Solus were waiting for them in the shuttle bay, taking control of the situation as soon as the doors opened. For once Shepard had no problems relinquishing command. 

She followed them up to deck three, slightly disappointed but neither surprised nor protesting when she was ordered to stay outside the med bay.

She knew the doc needed space and arguing against her instructions only delayed the time before she could get to work and start her magic. 

She did however protest when Lawson tried to enter. 

Nikki didn't want that terrorist working on her turian friend. Who knew what the bitch would try to do to him.

"Commander! I need her." Chakwas' firm voice interrupted the less than friendly debate. 

Shepard took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her fists helplessly.

"Fine, but no funny business." She warned the Cerberus operative darkly as she stepped out the way. "He dies, you die."

...

The mess was practically empty, no one willing to stay around the volatile commander as she paced impotently up and down the side of the med bay. 

With the mission over, the adrenaline that saw her through had faded and now she was bone tired. Her brain deep into the cycle of 'should have, would have, could have' that had her replaying the mission over and over in her head. 

Desperately trying to work out a way she could have done things differently. 

A way that didn't leave her friend fighting for his life in the med bay.

_ You should have got Archangel first. Mordin could have waited. _

_ The vorcha shut down life support, if I hadn't been there at the time the whole district would have suffocated,  _ **_including_ ** _ the professor. _

_ Not if you'd listened to Lawson. Should have gone straight to Omega, not pissed about on Korlus first. You just wanted to show her who's in charge and now Garrus is the one who'll suffer. _

_ Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! _

She frustratedly ran bloodstained hands through her short cropped hair, oblivious to everything around her. The only thing that mattered was sequestered behind the opaque tinted infirmary windows and the shut med bay door.

"Why do you care so much about the turian?" A voice penetrated her haze and she spun round, forcefully pushing Grunt against the nearest wall before she realised that the rather surprised krogan had been asking with curiosity rather than vindictiveness.

Internally she winced and externally she sighed.

"He's my friend... My battle brother." The young tankborn didn't seem satisfied and she searched her mind for a way to explain that he would understand. "He's my krantt." 

Grunt nodded slowly.

"Then you have nothing to worry about." 

It was Nikki's turn to be confused. 

"Anyone worthy of being your krantt must be tough."

She wasn't sure he quite understood how life and death worked. How fickle and uncaring fate could be. But she hoped he was right.

...

"He's going to pull through." Those five words broke through Nikki's stupor, causing her to look up at the tired but caring face of Doctor Chakwas.

"Thanks doc."

"It wasn't just me." Karin replied pointedly but wasn't convinced Shepard was with it enough to get her meaning.

"Can I see him?"

"Not like that." 

Nikki frowned until she realised the doctor's hand gesture encompassed her battle scorched armour and dyed blue hands. 

"He's still out at the moment regardless. Have a shower, some food and some rest, Commander. I'll let you know as soon as you can visit."

...

"Shepard!" Garrus noticed her the moment she walked into the med bay. He tried to rise from his bed but was pushed back down by Chakwas who continued her checkup scans. "We were just talking about you."

"Nothing bad I hope?"

"Oh just the fact that apparently we're both alive, that this isn't actually the Afterlife."

"Well duh, I have much better music tastes than Aria." Nikki teased, trying to gloss over the darker subject matter. She still wasn't entirely sure what to think about the implications whenever that particular topic came up.

"Debatable." The turian scoffed before turning his attention to Chakwas: "You're right, she hasn't changed."

"Much to my dismay." The doc teased back, giving them each a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she left, allowing the two friends privacy for their conversation.

Her departure left a void, an uneasy silence seeping in as neither was sure what to talk about. They hadn't had this problem when they were under fire, their banter had flowed easily then, just like old times.

"So... Chakwas wouldn't give me a mirror, how bad is it?" Garrus finally broke the silence, gesturing at himself. 

Nikki looked up at him, the bandages covering one side of his face. It certainly wasn't going to be pretty, but considering the last time she'd seen him, the worry she'd had that he was going to bleed out right in front of her... It was a definite improvement.

"Hell Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and nobody'll even notice." She decided to stick to ribbing and banter, it usually served them well. It was a good choice, making him laugh before he winced in pain.

"Oh, don't make me laugh damn it, my face is barely holding together as it is." His voice suddenly became sly, almost purring as he mentioned: "Still, some women find facial scars attractive."

"I wouldn't know." 

Trish had been more accepting of her scars after Akuze than Shepard had been herself, even if the civilian tended to worry over each new one Nikki acquired since then, but Nick had never had any scars on her face before. 

She wondered if that would make a difference, bringing a hand up to trace one of the faint lines before reminding herself sharply that it couldn't. She'd sworn not to interfere with her partner's happiness so she'd never know. 

Garrus was watching her closely. He wasn't exactly sure  _ what _ she was thinking about, but he could make an educated guess about who.

"How  **_is_ ** Trish taking all this?" He asked softly. When Nikki didn't respond his eyes narrowed, mandibles flaring in startled realisation: "Wait! You haven't told her?!"

"Leave it Vakarian." The spectre requested. 

However, despite not showing up on his medical tests, it seemed he had a hearing problem as he continued pushing.

"Why wouldn't you talk to her? I know people who would kill for a relationship like you had. You two are perfect together."

"It's not like we had a row and stopped talking, Garrus. I died. Do you have any idea what she must have gone through?"

"Yes I do, I was there!" 

That gave her a moment's pause, but she quickly shook her head.

"Then don't make me put her through that again. It's been two years. She's grieved and she's moved on. I turn up now I'm only going to make things worse."

"So, what? You're just going to let her keep thinking you're dead? What if she finds out some other way? You really want Trish to find out you're alive from some random news report?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Me stupid? You're the Hero of the Citadel. The first human spectre! Do you honestly think nobody's going to realise you're back Shepard?" 

Truthfully she hadn't actually thought about that. She didn't have time to dwell on the implications now however as Vakarian demanded: 

"Don't you at least owe her that much? Do you love her or not?"

"Of course I do!" The N7's eyes blazed with emotion. "But what the hell am I supposed to do Garrus? Just turn up at the house after two years and say: Honey, I'm home?"

"YES!" 

They stared at each other incredulously before Nikki scoffed.

"Forget it Garrus. She deserves better than me. Someone who won't hurt her."

"Don't you think she deserves to make that choice herself?"

The stubborn spectre had had enough, turning to leave.

"Shepard!" There was a clatter as the turian attempted, and failed, to follow. Nikki stopped. Seeing him on the floor she softened her voice but didn't go back to help him up.

"Get back to bed Garrus. You don't want to get on Chakwas' bad side."

"Won't you at least think about what I've said?" He pleaded as she stepped towards the door once more. 

She paused for just a fraction of a second, voice so soft he wasn't sure she meant him to hear as she admitted:

"I think about it every day."


	7. Revelations

_ Ferris Fields. _ Shepard heard the whispers from the crew before she had time to read any official report on the latest planet to be attacked. 

She'd been there once. 

A dozy little place, no real strategic importance, but a garden world with a quietly thriving colony.

She felt sick.

She knew now why Anderson had been willing to throw her to Cerberus. To take any chance, no matter how slim or disturbing, to put an end to this. 

However that wasn't the only reason for her nausea. 

Crewman Hadley's brother had been among the missing Ferris Fields colonists. She hadn't even known he had a brother.

She was disgusted with herself. 

She had an anecdote for each of the twenty men and women who had died with her above Alchera. Could tell you all kinds of facts and random preferences about her old crew on the first Normandy and the various squadmates she'd served with throughout her Alliance career. 

However she didn't know much about the people on this ship at all... She saw the Cerberus logo and she stopped looking.

For all their supposed racism and bigotry they had accepted a salarian, turian and krogan onto their ship with minimal disruption and yet she wasn't budging an inch on her own prejudices.

Of course her hatred of Cerberus was well founded. She could never forget what they'd done. 

But maybe, just maybe, she could try judging the individuals on their own merits.

It was time to bury the hatchet and, she smiled grimly at the mixed metaphor, where better to start than with the head of the snake.

...

"Lawson, do you have a minute to talk?" 

The Cerberus operative was surprised to find the commander at her door, the other woman tended to keep as far away from her as possible when they didn't need to work together. Even more surprisingly she sounded almost hesitant.

"Can it wait, Commander? I'm in the middle of a report."

"No, it can't." Shepard was suddenly her usual brusque self as she pushed her way into the room and claimed a chair uninvited. Then she seemed to deflate slightly, pressing the heel of her hands against her eyelids. 

"I wanted to... apologise, for the other day. And thank you, for what you did for Garrus."

The words sounded forced, almost painful, and Miranda wondered if they were being uttered of Shepard's own free will or if she'd been ordered by the doctor. She was under no illusions that Chakwas was the only one onboard with any influence over the commander. Well, and maybe now Garrus.

She wondered how Cerberus Intelligence had managed to miss that crucial detail from Archangel's dossier.

"Apology accepted." Hopefully she could end this conversation quickly and get back to her tasks. Unfortunately she wasn't so lucky. Shepard breathed a sigh of relief and made herself more comfortable in her seat as she smiled:

"So, tell me something about yourself Miranda."

"Really?" The australian raised a perfect eyebrow in disbelief. "Just like that? Why?"

"Because otherwise this..." Shepard gestured between the two of them. "Isn't going to work. We've been butting heads since I woke up and, hard as it is to admit, a large part of that is my fault. I need to be able to see you as a person, an individual, right now... I look at you or hear your voice and all I see is a giant Cerberus logo. I hate Cerberus, I hate the things they've done, I see you and I see Cerberus. Ergo, I hate you. Simple association."

It made sense in a way, Miranda supposed. Although she'd be remiss if she didn't take the opportunity to point out: 

"Cerberus isn't as evil as most people believe-"

"Miranda, please..." The spectre held up a hand to stop her, for once using an open palm instead of that annoying freeze fist, and for the first time Lawson noticed how tired she looked. EDI had mentioned that there seemed to be no discernible pattern to the commander's sleep cycle. 

"Don't waste your breath, I've seen the evil carried out in Cerberus's name first hand so why don't we just... agree to disagree."

It was more of a compromise than the commander had been willing to give so far so she nodded, but she was curious about the change of heart.

"Why now?"

"Ferris Fields... made me realise a few things..." 

It didn't look like Miranda was getting any more info than that but it didn't mean she'd stop digging.

"Things you couldn't realise on Freedom's Progress?"

The commander grimaced in response.

"I'd only just woke up, I had a lot on my mind. In my defence, getting my act together after two colony attacks is still quicker than the Council."

_ There it was _ , Miranda thought,  _ the attempt to hide and deflect with humour. Textbook Shepard.  _

She realised with a start that the commander was right, she'd spent two years learning everything there was to know about Nicola Jane Shepard but the other woman knew nothing about her in return. Only that she worked for Cerberus. 

Regardless of her own desire (or lack thereof) to talk, any chance to develop a better working relationship with Shepard would be beneficial to the mission.

"Well, you should probably know that I've had extensive genetic modification. Not my choice but I make the most of it." The change it topic was perhaps a little clunky but Shepard seemed to follow the switch seamlessly enough. "It's one of the reasons the Illusive Man hand picked me. I'm very good at just about anything I choose to do."

"And modest too, I like that in a woman." 

From anyone else Miranda would assume that was a flirt, but she'd studied the commander enough to know that she was completely oblivious to the fact that it could be interpreted as such.

"It's just a fact. My reflexes, my strength, even my looks, they're all designed to give me an edge. No point in hiding from it."

It was a little unnerving, being under Shepard's intense gaze as she told her story, but she refused to let it faze her until the commander suddenly interrupted from nowhere.

"Damn, that's tragic." 

Miranda frowned, she hadn't thought her last sentence was an overly deplorable part of the tale. 

"Here I am, struggling to see you as a person, and you don't even see yourself as one. You talk about yourself like you're just a tool, something to be used. By your father, or by Cerberus."

Miranda didn't think she agreed with that assessment but since this was the longest they'd managed to maintain a civil conversation so far she merely shrugged, not wanting to ruin their progress.

"Maybe. I like to know where I fit in the world. It helps me find meaning in how I was created."

Shepard simply scoffed.

"Twenty percent of 'natural' conceptions are unplanned, the rest? For one reason or another somebody decided they wanted a kid. Don't look for a reason behind your existence, simply be, and be the best you can be. You are who you are Miranda. You don't need to make excuses for it."

"That's easy for you to say. We've both been engineered for greatness Shepard, the difference is you were great before we rebuilt you. I'm great because of it."

"That's one thing we got in common then, neither of us asked to be messed around with." 

The sudden bitterness came from nowhere, but before Miranda could issue a suitably acerbic response Shepard sighed deeply and mimed shooting herself in the head.

"Look, what I'm  **_failing_ ** to try and say is... your father may have created you on a genetic level, but DNA is the smallest possible part of who you are. I've seen the best soldiers, top of their class, falter and fail while the weedy little runt stands up and saves the day. It's what's in here and here-" She tapped her head and her heart. "-that matters. That's what makes a person great and what makes them 'them'. That's something that can't be engineered. It is spirit and personality that makes anyone great. Even you."

"That's... I'm not sure I believe you, but thanks for saying it."

Nikki shrugged with a smile, she'd been a lost cause often enough to know when someone wasn't ready to be persuaded by reason.

"Just do me a favour Miranda, next time we land on a civilised planet, take some shore leave. Do something for yourself, something you like. Not because Mr Illusive told you to, or it helps Cerberus, or is good for humanity, but for no other reason than because you want to do it."

"Is that an order Commander?"

Shepard smirked as she stood up.

"Kind of defeats the point if I make it one, doesn't it? Enjoy your paperwork Lawson." 

With that she turned and left, leaving Miranda pondering the strange conversation. It seemed as though the commander believed they had come to some sort of understanding or agreement. The Cerberus operative just had no idea what it might be.

...

Nikki lay back on her bed staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. To think she'd spent weeks sleeping on the couch because she couldn't find a button to close the window shutters, when all she had to do was ask the AI for help.

It had been an interesting day. 

For the first time on her new ship she'd managed a complete walk around, talking with all personnel. Previously she'd only cared about names, job titles and status reports, but today she finally put the extra effort in to interact with them as if they were  _ her _ crew. People worthy of her time and effort. 

Maybe she was just imagining it, but already it felt like the atmosphere onboard was better, less oppressive.

Of course there were still people she wasn't keen on. Their personalities or belief systems clashing, rubbing her the wrong way, but for the most part the crew were at least tolerable.

It had been surprising how many of them were former Alliance, disaffected by the official protectors of humanity's lack of action. Such as the two engineers: Gabby and Donnelley. They weren't Cerberus hardliners, they'd just served in the Battle of the Citadel, seen the reaper threat first hand and been determined to do their part to stop it. 

They were easy to talk to and almost before she knew it she'd landed a spot at their poker table.

Goldstein and Hawthorne also took part in the game of skyllian five, moaning about the food onboard as was apparently common for the duo.

They had been enthusiastic when Shepard offered to look into getting hold of some better provisions for the ship. Cheers turning to groans when she joked that she was sure she could get hold of some surplus Alliance MREs from  _ somewhere _ .

Even the hypothetical MREs weren't as salty as the language from Zaeed as he lost another 200 credits, Nikki remaining completely unperturbed by his threats as she scooped up her winnings. 

She did make a mental note to visit his hideaway in the lower decks in the future though. His stories were highly entertaining, even if he had a somewhat obsessive attachment to his retired rifle 'Jessie'.

Kasumi was another individual with a multitude of tall tales to tell, although she hadn't been interested in game night. 

Miss Goto was one of the few people onboard that Shepard had talked to before her recent self-revelation that she was a dick, and they were currently enroute to Bekenstein to take care of a personal matter for the thief. Retrieving the greybox of her former partner.

At first the commander thought Kasumi merely meant 'partner in crime' but it was quickly evident even to her that Keiji had been a partner in life and love as well. A shroud of melancholic solitude descended around the woman whenever she talked about him and her living space was littered with little mementos.

Unbidden, Nikki found herself remembering a conversation with the thief earlier in the day:  _ "It might be out of turn for me to say this Shep, but don't squander your second chance. I would give anything,  _ **_do_ ** _ anything, just to see Keiji one more time." _

She hadn't lied when she told Garrus she thought about Trish every day.

As his words joined Kasumi's, and all the arguments already clamouring around her brain, she felt her resolve falter. For weeks now she'd been struggling between her desire to see Trish again, to speak to her, and the conviction that she'd only hurt her wife more in the long run if she did so.

She couldn't help but think of herself as a hypocrite. 

She'd never wanted to die, but in her line of work sometimes you ended up thinking about the possibility. She'd always hoped that, should the worst happen, her partner would find a way to move on. To be happy. 

She'd just never expected to have to come back and deal with the repercussions. 

Jealousy and guilt were merely the strongest feelings in a tumultuous cocktail of emotion.

She sighed deeply as she projected an image of the galaxy map onto the ceiling above her. It wasn't  **_that_ ** far between the Serpent Nebula and the Arcturus Stream, and the current ETA to Bekenstein was over a week before Hock's party.

They could spend the time launching mining probes at planets for resources,  **_or_ ** they could take a quick detour. 

She just wished she knew what to say.

...

Shepard had imagined this meeting so many times. When she wasn't busy listing all the reasons it was a bad idea that is.

Then there had been the debate about whether to just turn up uninvited or get in touch via email first. Both had drawbacks and when Chakwas had offered to talk to Trish first to prepare the way it had seemed like a good solution. 

More personal than an email, less shocking than a dead woman turning up unannounced in the hall.

Plus, as a medical professional, the doc would be able to deal with any side effects the announcement might cause.

So here she was, standing at their designated meeting spot, every possible reaction to her revival running through her head. From joy to anger to indifference. There was even a chance that Trish would refuse to meet her entirely. 

The faint purr of a mark four eezo engine interrupted her thoughts and she turned, heart pounding, as a skycar landed nearby, doors quickly opening.

For a brief moment their eyes met, but Nikki had no time to try and analyse the emotions on the other woman's face, her attention caught by a sharp, loud bark, seconds before she was knocked over by a high speed ball of fluff.

There was nothing she could do to defend herself from the twin assault of tongue and tail as an excited Judy jumped and danced around her. A range of whines and yips torn from the canine's throat. 

Burying her head in the wriggling fur, Nikki couldn't hold back the tears and laughter that erupted from her in equal measure as she fought to get both herself and the dog under some semblance of control.

Trish pretended not to notice as Nick attempted to discreetly wipe her eyes before standing up from the still rather overexcited dog. 

For a moment the two humans just stood there, staring at each other, neither knowing what to say.

"So, uh... hi." The spectre awkwardly broke the stalemate with a hopeless shrug. Forgetting all the various greetings she had mentally rehearsed over the past few days. 

In fairness any potential words seemed inadequate now, but surely she could have come up with  _ something _ better than that.

"Nikki..." Trish practically exhaled the name rather than say it aloud as she took a step forwards, eyes roaming analytically over the soldier's face. She looked exactly the same as the last time Trish saw her, except the aura of cockiness had been replaced by uncertainty. That and the faint glowing lines that looked like they'd come out of a sci-fi vid.

"Sorry about the zombie scars." Nikki joked when she realised what had caught her partner's attention, but Trish didn't even seem to hear the words. Too overwhelmed by the sight in front of her for her brain to be able to process input from any of her other senses.

It was one thing to be told about Nikki being alive, but quite another to actually see her again in the flesh.

"Is it really you?"

"The hard questions first huh?"

"Oh come here you." Trish stepped forward, embracing her wife in a hug, Nikki returning it without hesitation. "I missed you."

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." She instinctively tightened the grip, never wanting to let go as she clung to her rock, her anchor. 

Finally Trish pulled away, just enough to look at the younger woman's face. She reached one hand up to wipe away the water running down Nicola's cheek.

"Your eyeballs are sweating." She informed her softly.

"No they're not, I'm bloody crying." The soldier sniffed with a smile, Trish's lips curling up too as Nikki mirrored her actions, wiping away the elder's tears.

"Any moment now I'm going to wake up." The civilian couldn't help but voice her fear.

"You're not dreaming Trish."

"That's what you said last time."

Nikki didn't have a response to that, the knowledge her widow still dreamt of her. Then, with a flash of inspiration, she held up a hand, bringing it in slowly and pinching her partner on the nose.

"You did that last time too." Trish chuckled and Nikki rolled her eyes, dream-her was not making this easy for herself.

"And? What then?"

"I woke up." The civilian admitted, glancing back up at the still present Nikki with a glimmer of hope.

Her eyes caught once more on the faint glowing scars, she'd never dreamt of those before, and her hand moved of its own volition to trace the lines. 

A faint contraction around the eyes suggested Nikki wasn't entirely comfortable with the action, although she didn't protest. Seeing it, Trish quickly dropped her hand back down.

"How long have you..." She paused, uncertain of her wording before settling on: "-been back?"

"Uh, probably close to two months. Give or take."

"And you didn't come see me sooner? Send me a message or something?"

"I... I didn't know how... and I didn't want to make things awkward between you and Melissa."

"Melissa? How do you kn-..." Trish trailed off, how didn't really matter in the long run. 

A feeling of guilt rose in her chest but she couldn't work out which woman it was for. She'd been so caught up in the impossibility of the situation that she hadn't had time to think about how this would affect other areas of her life. 

"Shit, Nick. Why'd you have to make things so complicated?"

"Sorry."

"Damn it Nikki, you died! What was I supposed to do?"

The soldier just stood there, offering no accusation and no defense while Trish vented. When she was done it was a very demure Shepard who inquired:

"Do you love her?"

"I... She makes me happy. If someone asked me yesterday I'd probably have said yes but now? I don't know... I think so..." 

Nikki nodded resignedly, swallowing the fist sized lump in her throat.

"I'm sorry Trish, I'm sorry for everything I put you through and... I shouldn't have come back, I don't know what I was thinking, I'll just... I should go."

"Please don't Nick. Don't be all noble and self-sacrificing about this, that's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I don't know. I... This is all so much to take in. I need time to process everything."

"Ok, I can give you all the time you need."

"It's just... you were dead! I'm still not sure I can believe it's really you. I want it to be, I really do, but there's this little voice at the back of my head insisting it's not possible. That you're an impostor or a clone or… something."

"You could always ask me some questions only I'd know to make sure." 

Despite the confusion in her head and the ache in her chest, Trish found her lips twitching mischievously.

"Oh? Ok... What's your favourite type of cake?"

"Oh come on, that's impossible! Am I allowed to narrow it down to a Top Five? No, wait! Eight. What day of the week is it?"

Trish descended into giggles at that, Nikki following her over the edge, their fingers entwining as they held hands. Nick pulled herself together first.

"Come on, this will only work if you ask questions that have an actual answer. I don't want to go back to work and you start doubting again as soon as I'm gone."

Trish's mirth vanished, a serious look overcoming her as she nervously bit her lip. Her grip on Nikki's hand changed from playful to supportive, Shepard noticed the change in atmosphere and tilted her head towards hers, silent curiosity reflected in her eyes. Trish swallowed thickly as she stared into those deep brown orbs.

She already hated herself for bringing this up, it was cruel, but it was the only thing she could think of right now. Something only her immediate family would know. Something an impostor couldn't just look up on the extranet.

"What... What was the name of our first child?"

Pain flashed in the spectre's gaze. Her grip unconsciously tightening as the familiar feelings of loss, grief and longing that always accompanied the topic of Trish's miscarriage swept through her.

"Thomas." Her voice broke slightly. "His name was Thomas." 

Trish's thumb rubbed patterns on the back of her hand as the soldier took a shaky breath to recompose herself.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay." Nikki assured, "I did tell you to make sure."

"Yeah, but I could have asked something else."

"It's ok, honest." Nikki raised her other hand to comfortingly trace Trish's cheek with her own thumb, earning a soft smile that she returned. All of a sudden the spectre's face dropped into a frown of confusion. "Hang on... you said 'first' child."

Trish mentally slapped herself for the slip. This wasn't how she'd envisioned telling her wife.

"Yeah I did."

"As in like... we had more than one?"

Trish nodded, struggling to contain an eye roll, she could practically  _ see _ the gears turning in Nikki's head and god were they slow. 

"Did you... you went ahead with the IVF?"

"Yes I did." She watched closely, trying to work out the N7's emotions, but so far it seemed Nikki's brain was still too busy trying to process facts to waste time on feelings.

"And it worked? I mean..." 

Trish simply nodded. 

"What..."

"A boy." Trish figured she best help out or they'd never get through the conversation. She wasn't prepared for her partner's legs to give way however, the soldier collapsing to a sitting position on the ground. "Nikki! Are you ok?"

Trish quickly crouched beside her in concern.

"I have a son?" Her gaze was vacant, disbelieving, as she stared straight through Trish who grasped her hands once more.

"Yes. We have a son."

"I have a son." She looked up, an intensity shining in her eyes. "What's he look like? How old is he? What's his birthday? What's his name?" She rattled off questions faster than a salarian on caffeine and probably wouldn't have stopped if Trish hadn't placed a gentle finger on her lips.

"Well, he's got your eyes and your nose and... actually, I think he's got Ben's Y chromosome and your everything else." 

Nick smiled at that, a sense of pure wonder on her face as she stared at the mother of her child in rapt attention.

"He was born on March 21st 2184 and his name is Nicky."

"Well that's going to get confusing." The spectre scoffed. "How are we going to know which one of us you're yelling at?"

Trish smiled. 

"When I named him I never expected that to be a problem. I didn't think you and Nicholas would ever be in the same room."

"Sorry." Some of the joy faded from Nicola's face, her head dropping but Trish gently lifted it back up.

"Hey, none of that. We can't change the past, only the future. Do you... Do you want to meet him?"

"Can I?" She asked hopefully.

"No, I was only offering so I could dash your dreams." Trish teased pushing her wife's shoulder. "Of course you can."

"What about Melissa?" The question was hesitant and Trish felt another pang of guilt pierce her heart.

"She's visiting her sister. Won't be back until Wednesday."

Nikki nodded, her head and chest a mess as she bounced between thoughts and emotions. She still wasn't entirely sure where things stood with Trish but one thing was certain: 

She had a son.


	8. Homecoming

_ I have a son. _

The thought still seemed a little surreal as Nikki sat in the passenger seat of the skycar. 

Even though she'd completed her side of the baby making process, somehow she'd never really considered the possibility, and now she had a flood of emotions battling for dominance inside her. 

Joy and fear appeared to be the strongest, although neither seemed quite able to conquer the other. Joy's constant mantra of 'I have a son', up against a barrage of questions from fear:  _ What if he doesn't like me? What if I do something wrong? What if I make him a target? What if I drop him? _

Of course she'd held a baby before, but that was years ago and it had been Kevin. It hadn't mattered if she'd dropped her younger brother, she'd had plenty of brothers, but this was her son. There was only one of him and he was important. 

_ The most important person in the world. _

_ Except maybe Trish. _

_ Ok, that was tricky... Most important  _ **_boy_ ** _ in the world. There, sorted. _

She glanced at Trish out the corner of her eye and saw a slight smile on the driver's face. 

Nikki suddenly realised her knee was bouncing with nervous energy and slammed her heel to the floor to stop it. 

Trish's lips twitched in amusement and the spectre didn't even notice when her hand reached up to rub her eyebrow.

She did however notice the changing scenery below, the familiar sight of home. 

_ Was she even allowed to call it that anymore? _

She forced the doubts out of her mind as they landed, Judy wandering off to check the garden hadn't changed in her brief absence while Trish led Nikki through a new gate into next door's yard.

"Mama!" 

Nicola's breath caught at the sight of the miniature carbon copy of herself waddling unsteadily towards them. Part of her wanted to rush forward before he fell and hurt himself but none of the other adults present seemed concerned so she simply watched in amazement as he reached his target, gesturing to be picked up. 

Trish was more than happy to comply, but the commander missed what she said as her attention was pulled away by the sound of a disbelieving: "Nikki?!" and she turned with a grin towards her neighbour.

"Hi Ben. How's things?"

"You? You-" 

The smirk was quickly wiped off Shepard's face as a punch connected with her jaw, her own fist instinctively clenching in response and she only just managed to prevent herself from swinging back in retaliation.

"What the fuck was that for-... Ow!" Her angry glare turned to a look of betrayal as Trish slapped her lightly on the arm.

"Language." She admonished and that was enough to get the soldier's attention back to their reason for being here, gaze instantly softening as it landed on the child now being returned to the ground and Shepard quickly crouched down to his level. 

"Nicky, this is Nick. She's your... Opie." 

Nicola heard the moment's hesitation before Trish used the title they'd talked about so long ago, and was instantly bombarded with more questions.

_ Did she even tell him about me before? Maybe she used a different word for me in the past and is only using opie to make me happy now I'm back? What if they called Melissa opie? I hope not. I wonder if she has a title? She better not have been using mine. _

"Hi there little man." Nikki was privately pleased that she managed coherent words but her namesake simply blinked owlishly at her.

_ Now what? Should I wave? Pick him up? Hug? Shake hands? No, my whole hand's too big, finger? _

Before she could make up her mind, the toddler broke away from the assorted humans with a cheerful cry of: 'Ju-ey!' Flinging himself around his four legged friend's neck as the dog finally decided to join them. Trish gave an apologetic look to the spectre, Nikki offering a sad but understanding smile in reply.

_ Well, Jude  _ **_is_ ** _ more interesting than me, I don't have a tail to play with. Although... Sometimes on missions it  _ **_feels_ ** _ like I'm chasing my own tail. _

...

"Unca Ben, towy!" The miniature brown eyed terror demanded, pushing against his victim's leg. 

Their friend, neighbour and technically the biological father of their child even if only by donation, had calmed down and apologised after Trish explained that Nikki really didn't have a choice in the 'staying out of contact for two years and putting everyone through hell by letting them think she's dead' department.

Nicola wasn't entirely sure if Trish had told him the truth or made an excuse up, she'd been far more interested in watching her son play than listening to the adults' conversation. Now the tiny tot was bored of his toys.

"Sorry Little Nicky, I've got to go. Why don't you ask your opie for a story?"

After a bit more prodding, Nicholas sensed he wasn't going to get Ben to change his mind and shambled off.

"Mama, towy!"

"Why don't you ask your opie? I'm sure she'll read you a story." Trish repeated Ben's suggestion despite clearly wanting to read to him herself, this time pointing Nikki out to avoid confusion. 

The commander held her breath as puppy dog eyes turned to stare at her, seemingly getting larger and larger as he toddled toward her.

"Towy!"

"Sure. What towy-  **_story,_ ** would you like?"

Five minutes later Nicola found herself sat with babe in lap, datapad in hand, working her way through a veritable zoo of animal noises. She was doing well until her impersonation of a pyjak was met with a devastated: "No! Pie-ack!"

"It  **_is_ ** a pyjak! Listen." She was pretty certain Nicholas had never seen a pyjak in real life. 

She was also certain she knew what noise they made. 

She must have chased hundreds of the damn things on Eletania in search of the missing data module from that downed probe for Hackett after all.

Unfortunately her imitation still wasn't Nicky approved, even when she tried a few different variations, all meeting with the same criticism until Trish came to investigate the disturbance and taught her the 'correct'  _ (sounds nothing like a sodding pyjak) _ noise to use. After that Trish stuck around to help with a few of the more complicated sounds.

"Come on Nick, now you're just being awkward. Everybody knows dogs go 'woof'."

"Really? When was the last time you heard Judy say 'woof'? She doesn't. It's more like a 'ra ra ra' sound."

"Wa wa wa!" Nicholas did his best to copy, bringing a smile to both parents' faces and a mischievous twinkle to the N7's eyes.

"See, he gets it." Nikki declared, kissing the top of his head and flicking the datapad to the next page as she continued reading. 

By the time she finished the story Nicky was fast asleep, Trish helping to get him in bed without reawakening.

"Thanks for letting me see him." 

The awkward uncertainness was suddenly back as they stood in the hallway between rooms.

"Anytime. No matter what happens, he's still your son."

"Yeah... Not exactly like I can have him alternate weekends though." The spectre sighed deeply, running a hand through her short black hair, casting one last longing look at his bedroom door. "I should go."

"You don't have to." Trish offered and Nikki paused, brown eyes analytically searching their blue counterparts for clues.

"I'm not sure me staying's a good idea Trish." She wanted to, heaven knows she'd love to stay. Unfortunately, if the position was reversed and she was Melissa, she'd be suspicious if she found out about an ex sleeping over. 

The thought of someone else with her wife hurt like hell but she wanted Trish to be happy, and the smiling photos around the house proved that, if nothing else, Melissa was capable of that.

She didn't want Trish to risk ruining that relationship without at least having time to think about what she really wanted. 

Besides, what kind of future could there be with a zombie on a suicide mission?

"I'm sure Nicky would love to spend some more time with you tomorrow..." 

There it was, one of her Top Ten original fears about becoming a parent, that someone would use her son against her. She'd just never expected it to be her wife.

Nikki felt her resolve crumble as she thought about the little guy in the next room.

"Alright." 

Someone had to teach him more realistic animal noises after all.

...

_ The stars stretched out above her, a quiet beauty that made one marvel at the splendour of the universe, while at the same time reminding one of how tiny and insignificant they were in the grand scheme of the cosmos. _

_ A frozen planet, white with red contour lines, slowly grew bigger as she was drawn into its gravity well. _

_ The silence was deafening. The only sound was her own laboured breathing and the faint hiss of escaping gas.  _

_ Her arms flailed.  _

_ Delusions of serenity forgotten as she desperately tried to find the source of the suit breach to no avail. _

_ She struggled. Trying to find a solution, any way to cling on to life, to see her wife once more, but deep down she knew it was hopeless.  _

_ There was no way out of this. No insanely clever plan or miraculous lucky coincidence was going to save her. No script writer's hasty deus ex machina waiting for the opportune moment to reveal itself.  _

_ No, when the oxygen ran out that would be it.  _

_ The bright spark of her life snuffed out.  _

_ Just like the brief fireballs that had exploded silently from the Normandy, quickly vanishing as the last oxygen from the ship's life support systems burnt out and the vacuum starved the hungry flames into non-existence. _

_ Inside her armour a half melted ice cube pressed against a rib, the sudden cold sensation forcing her to gasp-... _

"Jude, no!" Trish hissed with quiet urgency from the doorway, but she was too late. The whining canine pressed her nose against the fitfully slumbering soldier's ribs and Nikki sat upright with a gasp. 

Unseeing eyes flitted wildly around the room, her breathing ragged and uneven and Trish jumped into action.

"Nick, look at me. It's alright, I'm here, you're safe at home."

Haunted eyes snapped onto her as she cautiously approached the couch, the proffered hand grasped like a lifeline. 

"Focus on me, you're ok."

The process of grounding herself had become almost second nature to Shepard over the years and she automatically started working through the five senses, focusing on a detail from each of them as she struggled to control her breathing. 

Sound: the quiet background hum of electricals and Trish's soothing voice. 

Touch: the softness of Trish's hand in hers. 

Sight: those intense blue eyes staring at her in concern. 

Smell: the faint aroma of coconut shampoo. 

Taste: Trish's lips as she-

"Shit, sorry!" Nikki pulled back as clarity returned with the force of a bulldozer, a new type of panic racing through her.

"Shh, it's ok." Trish soothed, one hand reaching up to the soldier's cheek in gentle caress as she leant in and Nikki allowed herself to get lost in the rekindled kiss.

It was a slightly calmer Shepard that finally surfaced.

"Did I wake you?" 

Trish shook her head at the soldier's question.

"I was getting some water." She wasn't sure why they were whispering but she maintained the trend as she asked: "Was it Akuze again?"

It was Nikki's turn to shake her head as she answered without thinking: "No, Alchera."

"Al... You remember that!?" The civilian's voice was horrified, chest aching at the thought and Nikki winced as her brain caught up to her admission. It was too late to take it back now.

"Not all of it, but yeah... enough." 

Trish pulled the younger woman into a hug on the couch.

"I think you need to stay away from planets beginning with the letter A." 

It took a moment for Nikki to make the connection, then she gave a dark laugh. 

Trish kind of had a point.

After all she'd lost her squad on Akuze, her toe on Antibaar and her life above Alchera. Superstitions had developed over far less.

"Maybe. It's not like the rest of the galactic alphabet is all sunshine and roses though." 

Trish scoffed slightly as she leant her head against the soldier's shoulder, snuggling in close. 

The contact helped sooth the pain in her heart but only briefly, guilt welling up to take its place as her eyes landed on a photo of her and Melissa.

"Why'd I have to love you both?" She didn't realise the thought had escaped as a faint, barely audible whisper until Nikki shifted slightly to get a better look at her.

"You ok?"

"I don't know what to do Nick. Where are we supposed to go from here?"

"I don't know." The spectre ran her fingers comfortingly through golden brown hair before gently pulling away. "Perhaps you should start with getting that glass of water."

Trish arched a questioning eyebrow: "How's that supposed to help?"

Nikki shrugged, smirking slightly as she offered: "It'll keep you hydrated at least."

"Idiot."

"Yeah but I'm-..."  _ your idiot. _ She quickly trailed off before she could finish her traditional reply. It wasn't quick enough though, she caught the flash of recognition and hint of pain that passed through blue irises in response to the words, both those said and those not.

"I don't have any of your teas, do you want some cocoa?" Apparently Trish was willing to pretend it never happened so Nikki nodded, the older woman standing to make her way to the kitchen. 

Nick's eyes lingered on the retreating figure, her mind supplying her with much nicer memories than her recent nightmare until she forced it back to the present. 

Trish wasn't hers anymore, no matter how much it hurt, she needed to remember that.

She was debating whether to wait on the couch or follow her heart's desire to the kitchen when she heard a noise from upstairs. 

A quick mental calculation of how much Project Lazarus had upgraded her hearing and the extra distance between the lounge and the kitchen suggested Trish probably hadn't heard and another brief internal argument had her heading for the stairs.

Her son was awake. 

By the look and sound of things, he did not seem too impressed about that fact. 

Standing in the doorway, Nikki suddenly realised she was woefully unprepared to deal with this. 

She didn't know why he was crying, she didn't know how to fix it, and surely her best course of action would be to find a more qualified adult.

She took a step back. 

He looked up. 

Their eyes met, he made 'pick me up' gestures and Nikki knew she couldn't let him think she was abandoning him. 

She took a step forward. Then another. In seconds she was by the cot and lifting him out. 

He was still crying. She still had no idea what to do.

"Shh, shh, it's alright Little Nicky." She bounced him experimentally a couple of times before her mouth decided all of its own accord that it was going to try singing, the words coming out as a soft croon: "Hey Nicky you so fine, you so fine you blow my mind, hey Nicky. Hey Nicky." 

The wide eyed baby chortled. 

Nick Senior smiled. 

Junior burst back into tears. 

Nicola's smile vanished.

"No, no, no, don't do that mini-me. I don't know what you want." 

Nicholas didn't have the vocabulary to express his wishes just yet, or maybe he could have if Nicola was more fluent in baby speak, fortunately he found other ways of communicating.

As he attempted to grab and grope her breasts through her shirt Nikki finally cottoned on. Her grin reappeared as she realised her son was a true Shepard and had the stomach to prove it.

"Nice logic little guy but it doesn't quite work like that. Come on, let's find-..." She trailed off as she turned and found Trish watching them from the doorway. Highly aware of the still bawling babe at her hip, she instantly went on the defensive. "It's not... I wasn't..."

The civilian merely rolled her eyes as she stepped into the room, holding out the promised cup of cocoa. "It's fine, I'll swap you."

They carefully transferred Nicky between them but despite her best intentions, the private promises to step aside for the sake of her family's happiness, the commander couldn't help but be hit by a tide of emotions, a surge of love and desire as she watched Trish breastfeeding their son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case of any confusion, when both generations of Shepard are present then 'Nick' is used to refer to the elder Nikki (Commander Nicola Shepard) or used in plural form to signify both of them e.g. 'the two Nicks' or 'both Nicks'. Their son will be referred to as Nicky or Nicholas or various pet names.
> 
> As for Nikki's title, Opie (O.P - Other Parent) it is pronounced Oh-Pee not Oh-Pie because otherwise Nikki would forever be getting distracted at the thought of food.


	9. Chapter 9

Trish woke gradually, snuggling deeper into the duvet as she noticed her return to consciousness and desperately hoping she wouldn't disturb her memories of last night's dream. 

She'd dreamt of Nikki again. 

Even after all this time that was no rare thing. 

Sometimes it was memories, other times fantasies. Last night definitely belonged in the fantastical category. Sure it had seemed so lifelike, but that was also nothing new, and the content itself was so preposterous that it couldn't possibly be real. 

Nikki resurrected by and temporarily allied with Cerberus of all people, and then taking time out from a new mission of galaxy saving proportions to casually read animal noises to their son.

As if mentally summoned, there was a notification from the omni-tool on her bedside cabinet as the baby monitoring VI informed her that Little Nicky was awake. 

He wasn't crying thankfully, but she knew she'd have to get up if she wanted to keep it that way. Being a mother was both rewarding and demanding.

Dragging herself out of bed, she crossed the hallway into the room directly opposite, lips morphing unconsciously into a smile as they landed on an increasingly common sight. Whereas in the past Nicky had been content to stand, clutching the bars of his cot and watching the door for her arrival, recently she'd instead find him analytically studying his night time prison.

Not for the first time, Trish wondered how long she had left before he was making escape attempts, 'not very' she suspected. Especially considering his genetic heritage.

Her eyes flicked to the photo of Nikki on the table outside the cot. 

There weren't many of them left on display in the house. Accidentally glancing at them had a nasty habit of making her an emotional wreck, so they had been resigned to specific locations. 

Places where she could choose to look and remember her lost love instead of being ambushed by feelings. 

There was never any doubt about Nicky's room having one though. She wanted him to know where he came from and it was comforting, in a way, to imagine her wife watching over him.

A frown creased Trish's face as she noticed a cup beside the photo frame, she never drank in this room. 

With a start she remembered getting Nikki a cocoa in her 'dream',  _ surely not? _ She mentally performed a quick rewind of everything that happened and had to conclude that, as unbelievable as events seemed, it probably wasn't a dream.

There weren't any unexplainable jump cuts for starters. When she appeared in a room it was always because she walked there, when they went home after first meeting Nikki they used the skycar.

Then there was the fact her previous dreams tended to revolve around the idea that Nick hadn't actually died, or else they just glossed over it without any explanation of how she was there.

Never before had Doctor Chakwas arrived first, explaining that the science checked out and it really was Commander Shepard reborn.

Never before had her imagination included those faintly glowing cybernetic scars. 

Scars that had her partner instinctively flinching at her light, curious touch. Yet holding deliberately and patiently still when Little Nicky prodded at them. Assuring her 'it's fine, let him be' when Trish tried to make him stop, despite the obvious unease and discomfort on display.

"Mama?" A soft voice interrupted her thoughts. 

Sometimes she swore that kid had psychic powers. There was an old Earth saying 'speak of the devil and he will appear', with Little Nicky it often felt like you only had to think of him. 

Lifting him up, she started their morning routine. Even as her mind drifted back to the two Nicks' interaction the day before. 

Dream Nikki had always been the perfect parent on the rare occasions Nicky Junior was present. Yesterday's Nikki had been cautiously competent, nervous about every new activity but a rather rapid learner.

As she carried Nicholas downstairs, Trish could feel her heart rate quicken in anticipation of what they'd find. The moment of truth. 

Disappointment struck deep in her chest as she stuck her head into the living room and found it empty, not even a blanket on the couch, only to be chased away by a flicker of hope at the smell of toast. 

Entering the kitchen, she discovered a familiar sight; Nikki sat at the table with her omni-tool off her wrist, propped up against the cereal box so she could read it. A bowl in front of her, spoon in her right hand and a slice of toast in her left. She was happily powering through the cereal but every time she'd need to scroll down on her omni-tool the spoon would briefly be deposited in the bowl and she'd take a bite of toast instead. 

Trish huffed a quiet laugh, causing the spectre to look questioningly over at her.

"Now I know you're not an impostor."

"How's that?"

"Because you're using a little spoon for cereal." They shared a chuckle before Trish's brain caught up with the sight in front of her. "Hang on! How did you make toast?"

"Ah, yes, about that. I have no problem with whatever happened to my N7 cup, or the fact my mako restoration project is no longer in the garage, or all the other little changes, but... how can you not have a toaster any more?" 

Trish felt a stab of guilt as she thought of all the things she'd got rid off because they hurt too much to look at, only to shake it off when she realised there was no accusation in the commander's voice.

"I don't use it." She shrugged. "You didn't answer my question."

"Well... I just thought: 'what is toast but bread exposed to a heat source?'  **_Then_ ** I thought: 'my omni-tool can generate heat' and then-"

"You used an incinerate on the bread?" Trish interrupted with an eyebrow raised.

"No!" Nikki protested vehemently before fading off into a mutter: "I grilled it with my omni-blade."

The civilian burst into laughter, her next words escaping before her brain even had time to process them: "God I love you." 

The spectre's mouth turned up into a small smile.

"Love you too Trish." 

The response was instant, Trish's eyes dropping down as she swallowed thickly. Nikki could practically feel the guilt radiating from her and with a sigh she caught hold of the other woman's hand. 

"Hey, look... I know this whole situation's pretty fu-" Her eyes flicked to her son, sat expectantly in a high chair. "...complicated right now. Yesterday I promised to give you time to think things through and I will, but I love you Trish, I'm not going to apologise for that. Whatever happens, I just want you to be happy. In an ideal world I want that to be with me, but if it's not... then that's ok too." 

A range of emotions flicked across the older woman's face as she gave a squeeze of their connected hands in lieu of the words she could not form.

"Mama!" 

The moment was broken by a plastic spoon being hit against the table, both of them turning to face their son who was one step short of having a meltdown at the prospect of having to wait any longer for breakfast.

"Someone takes after their opie." Nikki observed, forcing a soft laugh from Trish.

"Yeah..." She placed a bowl in front of the eager tot before deciding to jokingly add: "And since you've just admitted it's your fault, you can clean up the mess he makes!"

...

"Here, I want you to have this." Trish declared as she joined the two Nicks in the garden where they were waiting for the commander's transport back to the Normandy. 

She pressed the perfectly folded and highly treasured N7 hoodie into Nikki's hands, watching as subtle hints of hidden emotions crossed her face.

"Thanks." Shepard's thumb traced over the embroidered logo. It wasn't just a favoured item of clothing but a reminder of who she was and what she'd achieved.

"And this..." Trish offered out a datapad with one hand, the corner of Nikki's eyes creasing inquisitively as she accepted it. 

Turning it on revealed a picture of a tiny face sticking out a bundle of blankets. Nicola gasped as she realised she was looking at her son as a newborn, the user interface informing her it was file 1 of 100. 

"I put it together while you were making lunch."

"Thank you." Unshed tears swam at the bottom of the spectre's eyes but she was far from sad. "I... thank you." 

Trish simply nodded in understanding, her attention soon caught by a growing shape in the sky. They fell into an uneasy silence, still not entirely sure where the boundaries of their relationship were. 

It had been a long time since they separated with anything less than a passionate goodbye kiss. 

For Trish it had been a long time since they'd been together at all.

"Well... I guess this is it." Nikki offered awkwardly as the shuttle started to land. She suddenly found herself pulled into a hug.

"Promise you'll be careful?" Trish whispered into her neck.

"I'll try."

"No more dying."

"Once was enough." She agreed, filled with a nearly overwhelming desire to kiss the civilian. Somehow she managed to contain herself to a gentle brush of the lips to the back of Trish's hand before crouching down to face her son. "I've got to go Nicky, you be good for your mum yeah?"

"No." Came back the instant, petulant response.

"Hmm, I think the word you want is pronounced 'yes'. Are you going to be good for mummy?" Nikki tried again but Nicholas merely shook his head as he repeated his previous answer. "Why do children always learn no before they learn yes?" The commander lamented as Trish chuckled.

"I've no idea."

A quick kiss and tight hug of her son later, Nikki passed the toddler over to his mother, heading quickly to the shuttle before she could do anything stupid. 

She paused briefly at the door to allow one last chance for Trish to give an overly dramatic, vid-worthy declaration of love, but the moment passed. They'd already said everything that needed to be said, now all she could do was wait for Trish to make a decision.

Pulling herself into the empty squad compartment, she gave the order to the pilot for lift off, waving to her family until they were out of sight. 

She spent the rest of the short journey sifting through her emotions and trying to compartmentalise them, pulling on her metaphorical armour. 

The Normandy crew were expecting the legendary Commander Shepard, and Commander Shepard had a job to do.


End file.
